I no longer think about you or how you’re doing when I’m alone at night, I no longer wish to be the one who consoles you when your world gets dark.
I no longer hope it’s you when my doorbell rings. I no longer live in the fantasy I’ve created, I decided to wake up.
Because it seems that the more I hold on to the possibility of us, the more I lose touch with reality.
It seems that the possibility of us is not even a possibility anymore.
Because every time I think it’s possible, you make it impossible and every time I come close to holding you, you disappear.
When I thought about it, the possibility of us was very possible, it could’ve been real if you wanted it to be but you didn’t.
It only remained a possibility because only one of us wanted to make it happen, only one of us wanted to make it real but let me tell you this, when someone holds on to something for too long, letting go becomes easier, it becomes a sudden obligation because your hands are bleeding, because you can’t carry the weight by yourself anymore.
Letting go becomes something out of your hands, something you can’t control. And sometimes it’s only after you’ve let go that you realize how heavy the weight was and how liberated you are without it.
I no longer wish it was you, I no longer hope it’s your name on my phone, I no longer picture our wedding day.
I’m going to wait for someone who is more than just a possibility, someone who knows for sure, and someone who’s certain of every little thing you were hesitant about.
I’m going to wait for the one who knows how to make things possible, someone who is not content with me being just an idea for the future — someone who doesn’t make me question what our future will be. 
Rania Naim is a poet and the author of the book All The Words I Should Have Said.
