I walk into my house, hoping for the whir of the air conditioner, a pair of shoes on the floor. A stir from the bed.

Nothing...

I visit my friends. One of whom slowly hides behind the door and closes it sureptitiously... I thought I hear his voice, and wait for him to spring out at me from behind the closed door.

Nothing...

Im on my way down on the elevator, I open the door, hoping to see the lights on, luggage on the floor.

Nothing...

Thats the problem with having your boyfriend surprise you with visits. Then you just hope, and anticipate that maybe, just maybe, he'll do it again. And you'll get to see him again.

I miss him. But I wont allow myself to feel that.

Healing still takes time, and Im not willing to jump in head first all over again.

At least I recognize that emotion now.