i'm still trying to find the rhythm of my new life.
i took so much pleasure in the routine we had fallen into...we would sleep in, i would make coffee while you made eggs (because the one thing i cannot cook is eggs...), we would do the thing we always joked about..."nest"...the stupid yuppie shit that i used to make fun of...farmer's markets, wandering around town puttering, holding hands...
so these days, i sleep in if i can (i can't really), and when i wake up - for some stupid reason, my brain hasn't processed the idea that you won't be there next to me - i get that sinking feeling of reality setting in. i make myself coffee...too much coffee...and i have a cigarette...too many cigarettes...and i set about filling my saturdays...
finding a new rhythm, a new pattern, a pattern for myself, that doesn't involve you.
which is pretty impossible, because you are everywhere and in everything.
our rhythm...the rhythm of our lives together...is over...the sweet little ways and details i loved are gone...i'm done, tapped out, exhausted from the hours of crying, re-building the walls, hoarding the love i have left like gold, pushing everyone away.
my rhythm looks like solitude right now. avoiding social situations, keeping my own counsel, asking no one for help, letting the anger seep into my bones. i just want to be alone. the smiles i force feel so fake on my lips, and i haven't really laughed in a month.
shit. a month. a whole fucking month.
my rhythm is in counting days since it happened, counting days until i get to go away. i have to create my own things to look forward to, since you took away the daily joy i had. so i'm going on a trip. by myself. my own adventure.
my own life. MY own rhythm.