I held on so tightly, white knuckled , until it felt like it was impossible to let go.

And everyday I thought it was getting better but in the back of my mind my fingers were starting to cramp.

Eight months is too long to hold on to what could have been, what should have been, what isn’t.

The phone will not ring anymore, my screen will not light up reading your name.

The empty promise of you always being there can finally be laid to rest.

Because I don’t need it.

It’s time to relax my tired hands because it’s been too long since I have reached out. for something new