I decided I would fill the emptiness in me with God and with paint.
Go for it, my heart said, my heart always said.
The voice sang on, I am ready, I am ready, I am fine. I am fine, I am fine, I am fine. I played it again. I was not fine.
Even though I always came back, he said he was always watching me leave.
But I tended not to date men who ever showed up for me.
I threw his framed picture off my balcony just to hear my heart break.
And so I just kept writing to myself.
I used to cover my windows in heavy curtains, never drawn. Now I danced in the sunlight on my hardwood floors.
I remembered learning from my favorite professor at Belmont to surround yourself with people who are better than you, and I was now living that mantra.
I tucked the Camel coupon from his cigarette pack into my pocket. A souvenir of the moment where he said maybe. I would hold on to his maybe for as long as it would take, even forever.