You don't ever think of waking up to me, of coming home and looking forward to seeing me, glancing at your dressing table and seeing my make up and perfumes cluttering one end of it, knowing that the pillow on my side on my side will smell like my shampoo, catching my eye and seeing me smile almost shyly in a fogged up bathroom mirror. These things don't mean anything to you...do they?
She hoped so much she was wrong. She was a fool.
I want to close my eyes and disappear behind my eyelids for a few weeks. I just want to find a place to sit under the sky and I would walk and sit and lie down in the rain for hours and let it all be washed away. I would sit at night under that monument and look at the horizon of city lights marking those millions of people out there who are all struggling in one way or the other. The horizon of a city that would belong to me in a way it belonged to no one else.
I want to walk huddled against the bitterly cold wind and the snow by myself, walk for hours, until my mind is overwhelmed and blank with exhaustion. I want there to be absolute silence, so when I finally speak, I hear myself. So when I finally speak, I know myself.
I would learn to be alone again.
Loneliness is the human condition. No one is ever going to fill that space. The best you can do is know yourself... know what you want.
I worry sometimes I have nothing left to give to someone new. I have given it all to you. Should the need arise, will you return it to me please?
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