I've noticed that I sleep on the same side of my bed every night, and that if I try to sleep anywhere else, I toss and turn, and can't get a good night's rest.

and that is all that remains of my failed marriage. the only subconscious reminder of something that has otherwise faded completely from my physical memory.

i can't remember my wife. I've laid awake at night recently, trying to recall details... the way her body felt under my arm... the scent of her skin... more intimate things... and it's all grey in my mind. that which conscious thought spends little time processing when the person is close, but the body retains so that certain things would trigger emotional response.

I've lost all that somehow.

all that's left is my aversion to the center of my (totally different and new) bed, and a phobia of cider mills, like the one where I proposed to her, on my knees in the mud alongside a river, on a chilly October day, what seems like decades ago, but was merely a handful of years.

goodnight folks. see you tomorrow.

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