Ghosted, Hour Thirteen

I was ghosted.

Spent the second day of the new year alone,

crying,

downing an IHOP sundae.

Dressed in my finest.

Swearing off men.

But the next day, a ping.

A note from another man,

but wanting friendship.

A slow time, counting moments,

minutes, hours, days,

and now this new man,

this love of mine,

is a blessing in countless ways,

after feeling worthless for so long.

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