|
|
|
In an empty house The g.d. internet was down last night, otherwise I would have posted this: Snowfall, first snowfall. I went outside - it is quiet, it is peaceful. I hope it brings some peace. After today... Snowfall portends winter portends death and I will go to bed not knowing where he's sleeping tonight - in his car, likely. It'll be okay, for a while - it's just getting down to 30 tonight, he'll be okay. Peace - and I'd already decided to clean, and then... found... mouse poop. In my living room, on my chair, in the cushions. I rearranged everything last weekend and there was no sign of a mouse, but now... now I have two mouse traps, peanut buttered, cocked and ready to go. Running, once again, comes to save my soul. There were two races this weekend that I was going to do but I can't face the world, can't make it through this, can't make it through this. But then a friend asks about the race tomorrow, so I pull myself together and say yes, I'll do it. So I get some Gatorade, try to rehydrate after losing at least half a gallon of tears today. Have dinner (the soup he made, sets off another bout of sobbing), get things ready for tomorrow - a run in the snow. It makes my ankle hurt, imagining it, but I got my spikes out. Thinking of winter makes my ankle hurt and my imagination thinks I can work until the end of December and then drive down south with him, take him back home to his family. My imagination pretends things will be okay, pretends that my last sight of him won't be him walking away from my house this morning. It won't be, but my imagination pretends there will never be a last time for anything, and there will be, for everything. I've charged and then entirely drained the battery in my phone today. Last night he called unexpectedly but tonight I know he won't. I won't turn off my ringer, though, still. The internet seems down, and I'm anxious about something, something. Youth: adult vices, they are not what they may seem to you. --------------------- No he did not call. Woke up to an inch and a half of snow. Stayed in bed imagining things that will never be. Did not cry. Got to the race late, but everyone was running late. Told my friend about this - and she's dealing with a similar situation, and even worse, and it's not an uncommon thing so I feel better, hopeful that maybe he will be able to pull himself out of it. Came home, one of the mouse traps had gone off. I usually do laundry on Sundays but I think I'll save it for tomorrow night - give me something to do tomorrow night when I get home, so I don't have to just sit here and miss having him around.
|