Two hundred twenty six point zero eight.
That's the quickest route from my door to yours.
I have never felt so alone.
You try to fill the void in my heart with phone calls,
I admire your attempts.
We fill the silences with:
"I love you"
"I miss you"
"I need you"
But it is not nearly enough,
it does not work.
I am still alone.
Waiting,
always waiting.
Waiting for this year to end.
Waiting for you to be closer.
Waiting for the day where you are not two hundred miles away, but a couple feet away.
Waiting for the day where we rest our head on the same pillow.
Waiting for the day where I stop crying every time I think about how far you are,
how long it is until I see you again,
how lonely I am.
Waiting to stop feeling so alone.
Waiting to get used to being left behind.
So
much
waiting.