in

Distantly Hopeful

I stand there with my hand against my phone holding my phone against my chest, clinging with every stretch of hope that I have left that this time it’s you.

It’s been a few days. The silence hasn’t ever lasted us this long and you’re scaring me. To be truthful, I think I’m the one scaring myself, but it’s easier for me to blame the heartache on you.

I checked my phone. Yet again, it wasn’t you. I hope you’re better. Last time we spoke I know you were in a bad spot, you said you felt alone and without purpose.

You told me you loved me a few more times than normal. Specifically, you said to me, “I love you, always remember that.” all I could say is don’t let me forget that.

If he is gone, is the love gone too? He says only you will care when I’m gone, and even you will get over it. I know that you care, but I can’t feel that you care. I let myself remember all of the stupid, awful arguments we’ve had in the past that prevented me from showing you how much you mean to me.

Initially, all I could think about is anger. Is he mad at me? Does he think I’m mad at him? But as the hours creep by my thoughts go from hoping he isn’t angry to praying that he is alive.

I only need one message. I feel empty as I trick myself into believing in my scariest ideas.

Your name pops up and I cry with relief. All you say is “I’m okay,” but I have never felt so grateful in my life. This boy was in the hospital, after making an impulse decision that life wasn’t for him. He was wrong. His life is for him.

Every time I don’t hear from you I still think the worst. Afraid of your fears, more than I fear my own. We are okay. You are alive and you smile, but we both know how things are for you. That sense of fear is scary in itself but also helps me show you how much I care.

We are going to be alright, just walk with me. Whatever good has been left for us in this world will be ours, trust me.

I put away the phone, hoping for the best, and praying that tonight is as okay as the rest.

I know you aren’t feeling well yet, but thank you for staying here in this world with me, as well as showing me we don’t need to live in a state of constant regret.

Advertisements

Written by Megan Jerabek

Megan Jerabek is a student born and raised in Nebraska. She spends most of her free time writing, and enjoys acting and photography.

[g1_socials_user user="110" icon_size="28" icon_color="text"]

One Comment

Leave a Reply

Leave a Reply

Gun Control: Taking Action

My Funny Valentine