Now playing in the background: Morphine's 'In Spite of Me'
The blank screen. It stares back, taunting me, daring me to produce something to express what is going on inside. Not good. Not bad. It just is at the moment and that's all I know.
Save for the hangover that I should have, a vestige of the surrealness last night, I don't know what to feel. It's as if I have forgotten something. Did I turn off the oven? I never cook anymore, I feel guilty for cooking just for myself. There is no one to put a plate of hot beef stew in front of, there's no one to ask how my day was. There's no one to admonish me for possessing way too many shoes, shoes that are strewn about the living room and the kitchen. The kitty isn't chewing the laces on my Adidas shelltoes, she's not following me as I walk into the laundry room. She's gone, but then again, so am I..
There is an empty cabinet, there are no longer turntables sitting on top of it. The records, gone. The memories of routines gone by, it's as if I am spectating on someone else's life. No more hearing the car pull in the driveway, no more listening for the front door to open, no one is bounding down the steps to give me a kiss.
Did I remember to not take you for granted? Did I merely take up space and go through the motions of romance while you watched resentfully, wishing I could be happy, yet knowing that there was nothing you could do? Did you project what you wanted to see in me on the blank screen that was not?
I wish I were a blank screen sometimes, so that I could project happy vacation slideshows, footage of you shoveling snow while I laughed, and moments of the kitty in night vision. I wish for lots of things.
The stench of paradise beckons us all, doesn't it?
The blank screen. It stares back, taunting me, daring me to produce something to express what is going on inside. Not good. Not bad. It just is at the moment and that's all I know.
Save for the hangover that I should have, a vestige of the surrealness last night, I don't know what to feel. It's as if I have forgotten something. Did I turn off the oven? I never cook anymore, I feel guilty for cooking just for myself. There is no one to put a plate of hot beef stew in front of, there's no one to ask how my day was. There's no one to admonish me for possessing way too many shoes, shoes that are strewn about the living room and the kitchen. The kitty isn't chewing the laces on my Adidas shelltoes, she's not following me as I walk into the laundry room. She's gone, but then again, so am I..
There is an empty cabinet, there are no longer turntables sitting on top of it. The records, gone. The memories of routines gone by, it's as if I am spectating on someone else's life. No more hearing the car pull in the driveway, no more listening for the front door to open, no one is bounding down the steps to give me a kiss.
Did I remember to not take you for granted? Did I merely take up space and go through the motions of romance while you watched resentfully, wishing I could be happy, yet knowing that there was nothing you could do? Did you project what you wanted to see in me on the blank screen that was not?
I wish I were a blank screen sometimes, so that I could project happy vacation slideshows, footage of you shoveling snow while I laughed, and moments of the kitty in night vision. I wish for lots of things.
The stench of paradise beckons us all, doesn't it?
VIEW 19 of 19 COMMENTS
I know how you feel, it's really difficult to try and deal on your own after being with someone for a long time. I miss all the stupid little things just as much as I do the big stuff. And trying to get motivated is soooo hard... but hang in there, it'll get better. At least that's the plan.