The hardest part about leaving without knowing where you stand is that all the days when you're away, no matter what you're doing, you'll trace your thoughts back to the place where you left your heart behind in someone else's hands.

You start counting the days. You take comfort from the fact that you're still living under the same sky, even though his bright, sunny days are your long, insufferable nights. It's not easy, making things work. Sometimes, they just would not go according to plan. You mark the days on your trusty old calendar. He counts the remaining weeks in his tired, trembling hands.

Somehow, you still don't know where you stand.

And you go through the motions because what other choice do you have? You see clouds and endless rolling hills where you used to watch his footsteps linger. There is little assurance that one day, the other end of the couch that is not your side will be filled with that presence again, that one that sinks the cushion but lightens your insides. Love, you think, takes so much effort, but not once do you ever ask if it is worth it.

Albeit slowly, time passes. He changes. You do, too. You realize that there was no use wasting all that time trying to count the days - they come in their own time. You take one step after another. He reaches out to you, the way you imagine a newly bloomed flower stretching up to meet the sun. 

The truth surfaces when you see him smile.

You are his sun.