But When?

*After You Left Me* I’ve accepted the silence. I’ve learned the layout of this empty space you left behind. I’ve watched the seasons shift through the same window where we once stood together. Every day, I tell myself that the healing is happening, that the distance between my heart and the memory of you is finally growing. But there is a question that hums in the background of every ambient hour, a low vibration that won't let me rest. I know they say that one day the colors will come back, the air will feel light again, and I’ll wake up without reaching for a ghost. I keep hearing that "time" is the answer. *But When?* When does the echo finally stop? When does the "After" just become "now"? I’m tired of living in the waiting room of my own life, looking at a horizon that never seems to get any closer. I’m ready to move on, but the clock seems to be stuck on the very last second you were here.... --- *But When?*