My hand stalls mid-air, unable to continue its action of knocking. Like there’s a roadblock in my head. A screaming in my head telling me “Stop!” or “Turn around! This wasn’t a good idea! She’s made it clear what she wants!”

Truth is, I don’t know what it is you want because you haven’t talked to me in months.

We’ve been together, if you can even say that anymore, for a year and some change. Things were great. We were so in love, we didn’t even know what it was like to not be that happy. Traveling together or cozy days in, every moment felt like a blessing.

Up until 3 months ago.

I’d brought you with me to Japan, where I was going to finish up the writing for my album that comes out this winter. You’d never been before, so you loved it. We went sightseeing, food hunting, and I even introduced you to some of my closest friends there. I was in my favorite place with my favorite girl.

But then, tragically, your father passed. It was sudden and out of the blue. The hardest thing for me to witness was you crying, even in your sleep. You left that same week to be home with your family, and obviously I understood. I was a bit confused when you told me I didn’t need to come, seeing as I wanted to comfort you during that hard time, but I obliged without a word. Whatever you needed.

I would’ve given you whatever you needed.

What I didn’t know you needed was…space. If you can even call it that at this point.

3 months ago you came home to be with your family. 3 months ago, you left me in Japan and I accepted it. 3 months ago was the last time we talked.

We haven’t broken up—I don’t think. I feel like there would have to be a two sided conversation for that to happen. But, instead, you’ve…ghosted me. Completely. You’ve changed. This isn’t like you. I understand that you’re probably still going through a lot, but…to just ditch and then go silent? It’s a harsh blow.

That’s why I’m here. Back from Japan, standing at your door, trying to force myself to knock.

No more hiding. It’s time to talk.