I am scared of starting again, I think.

Because it means I am really starting, again, but without you.

Somehow putting my pen on paper, and words on my screen means you’re really gone.

And that I will really have to do this without you. I will have to be strong, again. I’m so tired of having to be strong.

I feel stuck. I don’t want to move on. Because then it feels like I am letting go of you.

And so I hold on, and I do nothing. Nothing at all, and I dig my nails into this nothingness. Let the hours pass by, let the night fold the days.

Let me just be here, the last thing I did was drop you at the airport, 10 days ago, but I don’t want anything to be in between then and now. I want the last thing I did was hold you, one more time, before you moved away. Far.

And I am still here.

I don’t want to start.

But a part of me knows I will have to.

It is the only way to finish, right? To start, to finish, so we can put this distance behind us.

And start, again, together.