I'm still here

Sitting right where you left me, hands crossed and soles comfortably flat against the ground, I had the back of my head leaning against the wall.

The lazy whirls of the bladed fan churned the warm air into slow moving chunks of moist heat as the late afternoon sun hung over the window.

I turn my gaze onto the calender saw that its time.

Now I have to put it behind me and move on.

I am still here, but not for long.