I finally am enjoying my time alone.
I crave my morning coffee under my sheets.
My morning bath, journaling, watering the plants.
Cleaning my own space. Enjoying being in my body.
For months I’d wake up and look beside me,
to see an empty space in my bed.
I’d cry at the beautiful sunrise,
wishing it would stay dark.
I’d let my plants die,
and my sink rot.
It’s been half a year since I have seen you.
Time is a weird thing, and time is relevant.
You’ve had a whole different life since
I have been gone, a whole new timeline.
It’s hard to stomach.
Instead of anything new for me,
I just replenished old plants and people
that I left unattended.
Maybe thats worth something.
You’ve said I’ve grown.
Even after all this time,
we circle back together again.
Like the time in between disappears
in the dust. Like it has been erased.
It’s weird to hear you come to terms,
with things in yourself I already saw.
How you don’t feel the need to chase,
superficial things and connections.
Sometimes I hope that,
the time apart was meant for us to grow
to come back together again.
Why you, why am I stuck on you?
We tried to erase each other,
but we couldn’t. We could not run from it.
You said you wanted to reach out many times,
but was afraid to do so.
I overthink every word I said,
and it all blurs together.
We can’t lie to each other,
we can’t keep things from each other.
It all just comes out eventually.
I just sit here and hope that,
the universe has some sort of plan.
Because I am way too tired
to figure it all out on my own.
But finally I feel like I do not need you.
That it’s beautiful to sit in solitude.
That I have grown a life outside of you,
all on my own.
But I’ll always let you stick around.
And I kinda wish you would.