I usually only ever feel overwhelmed when I try to fit myself somewhere on the spectrum of "normal" human behavior. Growing up, being different was our "crime", our "fatal flaw" that we were to cover up from prying eyes at all costs. The ultimate reproof from mom was "What would people THINK?!?!?" and so ingrained is that ever important question that I'm sometimes a dysfunctional adult because of it. It's easy to SAY "f&%k it! I don't care what they think!... much more difficult to actually DO.
I’ve had people ask me how I’m doing. Honestly, sometimes I just don’t know what to say in response. It depends on when you catch me. Frankly, the best times are when I’m talking to someone besides myself…. especially when it’s not about how I’m doing. So if you’re over in my hood, hit me up. First and foremost, it does not seem like I’ve been alone now for over five months. On the other hand, it’s been forever since I saw him, touched him, held him, heard his voice. And I think of him and his absence constantly… Still, it’s getting a LITTLE less difficult to move through the days. (The nights, that’s different…) I never know when it’s going to hit me - scooping dog food into bowls in the morning, paying bills at my computer, sitting in the parking lot of the grocery store, pet store, post office or drugstore… or in the middle of my living room. It feels a bit like walking along the beach, gentle breeze, warm sun, surf at my feet when SWOOOOSH… with the force of a tsunami...
It happens every evening as the sun starts to sink on the horizon, making the sky glow a soft yellow gold. It never seems to matter what I've been doing before that time, but as the day fades into night the sadness sets in. And I cry. Of course crying is not relegated to the night time; would that it were. But something about the setting sun and the end of another day without you by my side makes it impossible for me to stay composed. There's no trigger. There's no suddenly sad thought. I just cry. And I miss you
Comments
Post a Comment