3 Weeks

 

3 weeks. Maybe in 3 years or 3 decades I'll finally stop feeling like you're going to text me, call me or walk through the door. Maybe I'll stop thinking I can do something to change it, to make you come back. Maybe I won't have that haunted look in my eyes. Maybe I'll have stopped wondering what you would've been like in your 30s, 40s and 50s, or if you'd have ever had kids or gotten married.

Maybe someday I won't hate Fridays anymore.