He won’t be standing at your car when you leave for work on Monday morning, arms full of apologies. He won’t call you on a random Thursday night, his voice thick with melancholy as he reminisces of when this day used to be our day. His name shouldn’t be listed as your emergency contact anymore, because you know he won’t come if you needed him to - even if that’s hard to admit. Stop reading his poetry and wishing for a sign beneath all the metaphors and similes, what makes you believe you’ll find any after so many months? Stop wishing for that moment when you bump into him at your favorite store, the one you used to spend endless hours in, chasing each other with oversized stuffed animals and crazy socks. Stop crossing your fingers behind your back as you count down to the holidays - no, he won’t be there to hold your niece, or kiss your grandmother, or help your mother with the mashed potatoes, even though he had been there so many times before.

Stop waiting for him to come back.

Because no matter how many poems you write, how many wishes you make, how many sleepless nights you encounter, you know it won’t make a difference.

The past might keep you warm at night, it might even make you feel better during the day - but it’s holding you back from living your life in the present. Fold up those memories, place them in one corner of your heart, and let them help it beat a little bit harder.

But please, stop waiting for him to come back.
-C.A.