i'm not sure where this came from, or where its going

it's been exactly 1 month since i went incommunicado with MM.

it scares me how much i still think about him. its a relief how fleeting these thoughts are.

and the tenor of my thoughts have changed. the weight. the substance. the content.

i thought i saw him driving in his car yesterday. passing me as i stepped out of mine and onto the street. i was hoping it was him. and at the same time hoping it was not. i was glad i had put on makeup. and done my hair. that i was wearing my fabulous blue winter coat. and had my shoulder bag confidently thrown over my shoulder. i looked...together. independent. like i was going somewhere and doing something, without him.













i never felt that way within any proximity of him. when we were 'together' i looked...frantic. reliant. like i was waiting for him to tell me where i was going and what i as doing there. and i was. restlessly checking my cellphone just in case, in a silent room, i had missed him ring. when we were in the same room together, monitoring my stance, my face, my disposition, my words, to leave myself available should he decide to take me on but also closed, should he decide not to.

i think more now of previous relationships. relationships that were reluctant to leave the cocoon of bed in the morning, preferring to spend half or full days entangled in sheets, fawning and adoring. relationships that were so open they were already a wound. but so beautiful, it didn't matter.

i don't remember it taking this long mend the break of those relationships lost. i don't remember it being this painful, or enduring.

when the end of those relationships came it was equal parts devastating and not. the pain was acute. but it was identifiable. there had been love. and it had been lost. it had been true. and honest. and you had both equally relied upon its existence to bring you breath in the morning and sleep at night.

when you know that there is love, and there was love, though it hurts - like hell - the not mourning alone part provides the dollops of solace you need to learn how to breath in the morning without it, and sleep at night.

i do want to find that again. that safe place to fall. where it is considered beautiful to be weak. where it is considered epic to be in the room. where considered it is important to just exist. at all.

i've recently considered re-opening one of those wounds. the one i cherish most. the one who has already forgiven me for the mistakes i will make, let alone the ones i have. crawling back inside the cocoon we built so long ago now (two years, and i can barely remember why. he can barely forget). reaching out and letting him take my hand, left, that i can feel him inching towards every time we're under the same air conditioner. spreading my arms and leaning back. knowing, like i know little else, what i will find when i land. and there is the comfort of going home in the knowing.

but i'm not ready, yet. not right now.

right now. i wake up easy. yes, sometimes my breath fails me. and sometimes tears find their way behind my eyes. but i roll over to the cool side, relishing the vacantness of that space. desiring not at all to fill that it with anything. least of all another human.

right now. i fall asleep with certainty.