A funny thing happened last night - I woke up to silence. For whatever reason, I stepped out of my slumber and sat up in bed. At this point I would normally torture myself with “what ifs” but instead, the only noise that reached my ear was that of the room breathing.
Often I would wake and wonder where you were, with whom. I would wake wishing things were as they were, or as I had imagined them. I’d long for the nights when I could look at my phone and find you.
But last night, here was just space. And this openness was welcomed. I didn’t push it away, I embraced it. I appreciated it. The ghost of what once was, has dissipated into a sweet afterthought.
I searched myself, wondering if I was masking any pain. There was nothing there. Nothing pushing down on my lungs hindering my breathing.
Then I thought, now there is room. Room for something or someone new. Room for my wants. A blank page waiting to be written.