I have finally stopped walking past your bedroom door expecting you to be sitting on your bed playing guitar, playing Xbox or reading a book. I have finally stopped listening for the sound of your car to come up the driveway. I have finally stopped waiting for you to walk through the door and tell me some ridiculous story that would no doubt involve Wal-Mart, Waffle House, friends, 3 am and being asked to leave the premises for playing in the toy aisle or throwing spit balls across a restaurant. I have finally stopped waiting for you to offer to dry the dishes I am washing. I have finally stopped waiting to see you dance with the broom because if one must sweep it might-as-well be fun. I have finally stopped waiting to here you say “here’s the line of what’s acceptable; and here we are five feet across it”. I have finally stopped looking for your smiling face in that spiderman hoodie, and skinny jeans. I have finally stopped looking to see you dressed in your uniform to go to work. I have finally realized it is final. There is no need to wait, watch or listen. I even gave up seeing your ghost outside the art room door when I pick your brother up from school.