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I grew weary of waiting silently,
of longing for an empty message,
the call that never came,
the delayed and cold ‘I'm on my way.’
Of planning surprises alone,
of dreamy weekends,
lived only in my imagination,
while the clock ticked away untimely.
Tired of staring at a screen,
as if it were love,
getting my hopes up with a ‘how are you?’
that seemed to take my breath away.
Of being the one who always had time,
who gave up their space without question,
who was always waiting,
a reflection of what will never come.