Say What You Need To Say.

I have sat still for an entire week. This time last Monday morning I was still tasting liquor in the back of my throat and half crying from saying goodbye to work people, stumbling up three flights of blubbery stairs with my arms full of presents. I threw everything down after I got the key in the door and scared the cat.

I read books too quickly and forget everything I liked, then ransack the apartment for more. An according headache for every day I can’t get coffee quick enough, and then I pace and wait for food or tv to become interesting. I finally feel awake by nightfall, and should be more disgusted with myself but then i’ve always been this way.

Tomorrow I’ll leave and walk a few miles to get coffee at an acceptable hour and aquaint myself with all the new music I’ve taken on. I’m sure I’ll walk for a while and feel like a movie’s main character when the right song comes on, though I am always the one watching and not the other way around.

This tour hangs over my head, often in the shape of a question mark, depending on the day. It’s hard to bravely love yourself when you are the one who makes opportunities so much harder to enjoy. I cry when I think of the last kiss I’ll taste for three months, and the first night in two years I’ve not heard his sleep in my drifting ears. It’s not the only thing I dwell on, but it’s the most important.

Our tree is lit. We have a tree.