Maybe Someday I Won’t Be Waiting For You To Come Back

By Maya Staples

I woke up at 6 A.M. today. I tried to meditate while I heard a beeping garbage truck outside my window and tried to fall back asleep while the creepy whispering man on Youtube told me to imagine an orange light radiating from my navel.

Yesterday, I bought overpriced matcha yesterday at Whole Foods. This whole ridiculous kit that you totally would have made fun of me for. I heard on The Dr. Oz Show last week that coffee will give you wrinkles. It’s dehydrating and blocks “natural creative flow” apparently. Matcha is the new thing. I dreamt of the Americano from Starbucks I love so dearly as I gulped down a hot cup of grass, silently cursing myself for investing in something so foul.

I go to bed early now, even though it takes me forever to fall asleep. I got a therapist. We are working on my skills in relationships and ‘letting go.’ To be honest, the only reason I keep showing up is that there is a great bagel place next door. The old man at the counter kind of reminds me of your dad. It makes me feel closer to you.

I read these articles on MindBodyGreen and Tiny Buddha, I go to yoga and chanting classes, I even bought sage. I have been on a couple of dates with men who are nice. You know, terribly and excruciatingly average. And I sit there in fancy restaurants, completely out of place.

Everyone says how proud they are that I am working on myself, that I moved on. I threw out the cards you sent me and deleted pictures. I don’t have your number anymore.

But to be honest, I am lying to everyone. It’s like I am trying to forget you as I wait for you to come back. I see you in other people and think “it will only be so much longer.”

But here I am, pretending that the matcha and the ‘cutting chord’ meditations will help me. That I will change. Somehow, I am told, drinking cups of herbs and talking to a shrink who smells like tuna fish will fill up my heart with something else. But you’re still here, in my heart, and it’s like my body is refusing to rid myself of you. Maybe it’s only a matter of time. Maybe I will find someone else. Maybe I will learn to like living alone, the quiet won’t make me feel swallowed alive.

I will be at peace.

I am waiting.

Come back.