We actually were. I have no illusions about how you and I were. I am not that grieving person. But I miss you every damn day.
Last night I dreamed of you. We had conversations (although I don’t remember verbatim what about), but things were resolved. You knew you were gone (or my brain knew…I don’t know how to describe it). We made love. I said a thing to you that I normally wouldn’t say to you but to someone else and you retorted to me with “Oh I won’t, that’s not me.”
I don’t want to be at work today. I just want to exist in my car. Driving to some place super nice. Not dealing with what I am dealing with. I don’t want to be sitting at my desk typing this. I want to be on my way to waterfalls and mountains and peaceful feelings along with some good crying. I don’t want to be worrying about how to convey to the idiot children of mine that there are things they need to do to upkeep the apt we live in. I need to not be sitting here. I don’t even know how close the closest waterfall is. *googles waterfalls* – oh my lawd. There is one within an hour. I need to write down the coordinates.
I need to find the space to breathe. I need a break.