and over...

after a day off sick in bed, resulting in some zzzzz, and despite no caffeinated coffee since sunday lunchtime, i find myself awake at nearly 3am...

but at least i find myself returning to a more settled state of mind and being... gone is the hormonal turbulence...

but something of the disbelief remains... that i still persist in not quite somehow being able to believe that i am alone here now... moments continue day in and day out, when out of nowhere, when i am not paying attention, i will find myself caught up with, shaken like a rag doll: left, left, left...

who can ever guess what goes through the mind of another at moments like these? i try to make sure no one knows. when it strikes, i just sit there head buried in a newspaper, book or journal, or typing on these very keys. or turn my head away, unable to look others straight in the eye, always taking a deep breath and swallowing down the desire to collapse beneath the weight of reliving the moment of abandonment over and over... of the grief which remains so vivid... so overwhelming...

are there others walking these streets sitting in the same cafes and restaurants across the cinema aisle in the same traffic lane behind in the supermarket line even alone in their rooms, swallowing down the grief? there must be so many... so much sadness... not wishing to be burdensome, not knowing how to express their pain in accordance with good conduct, too afraid to express vulnerability for fear of letting go it will never cease... but swallow down we do...so many come by way of sorrow...

i look back on the months gone since and i remember the moments that i swallowed it down just as i recall the moments i could not...and then i try to relive those moments when my knees would no longer hold me straight or my eyes refused to hold back tears when i was not alone... and i remember the words spoken and the arms given and i try so very hard to live with gratitude for them... and here on days when i've been tucked away by myself, there are always reminders, messages left even here in these pages and i learn to treasure them as if they were spoken words and bodily gestures...

look. first person. no buffer tonight. no swallowing down. but still typing words that affirm the getting through.

i look forward to a real coffee tomorrow. gonna need it. it's past half three already...

LB, x