Three months of waiting—waiting for you to leave. Every step of the process took time and effort. But you had to go.
You wanted to find yourself.
If only you had that hair cut or the tailored dress or this life experience—something always promised happiness.
You counted the days and so did I.
While you saw a cage door, opening, I caught a glimpse of the bars you flew towards. The dread of loss almost killed me, but then, it didn’t.
Your opened cage door swung shut, and I was the one uncaged—free.