It’s already been a week and she hasn’t called. I can’t believe that she’s still on my mind. I can’t believe that i still stare at my cellphone, looking at her messages, thinking of why she hasn’t called. It’s partly my fault. I’m the one who hung up, i’m the one who told her goodbye, i’m also the one who thought she’ll call back. Maybe i thought that if i’ll seem strong enough she’ll call. So i didn’t call on the day afterwards, i waited. But he who waits looses sometimes, he thinks that he holds a better position in the fight, but he doesn’t take any action. So i just waited. I haven’t even tried to tell her something, and i lost. Now It’s been more than a week and i can’t start to imagine what happened with her, what is she doing right now? Does she think of me at all? And if she does, does she write in her diary that my long hands, the hands that feel, are what she missed? Or is it just me in her mind? In the meantime i’ll stay in my bar, drink my last cup of sorrow before i fly, wait for what should not be, the meeting that wasn’t made. In the meantime i’ll be here. She won’t.