Out of Reach

You watch him cross Valentine Bridge every morning at 7:45, carrying the Metro in his left hand. You watch him return every evening, with a take-away curry swinging in a plastic bag in his right hand. Peering from behind the tinted window, it is difficult to see if he still wears the silver ring you gave him for your first, and last, anniversary. You remember the time you had together – and the crumbs he left in the bed and the hair in the bath. Time has separated then and now. This is when you should free yourself and let him go. As he disappears out of sight, the void feels hard and tugs at your heartstrings. Like the man in the moon, he is out of reach. You know he has gone. And yet, you know that you’ll be back again in the morning, ready to watch him cross Valentine Bridge once more.