Nostalgia

I'm tired of the constant waiting, the constant wonder, the constant feeling of impending loss.
I'm sick to death of wondering if we'll ever make up for lost time, or if I'll be stuck in this limbo, this endless . . . area in my consciousness that nothing productive ever comes from. I'm tired of missing you, even though I told myself I was glad you're gone. Even though I am almost certain you're never coming back. I wish things could be differently, but deep down I knew this would happen. You helped me let go of so many things, you had to be the last thing I let go before I could be myself. It's funny, how the one who made me the strongest is the one I would have to set free before I could be who I need to be. It's all for the best, I guess. I just have to forget all those hours on the phone, all the tears I cried in front of you, all the times you were the only comfort I had to fall back on. Every time I see your picture, I wish I had someone to punch me in the face to keep me from gagging. I wish I could just accept the circumstances as they are, like I've had to learn with everything else. Maybe I will in time.