100 words

The light, the heat in your eyes drew me away from the daily reminders. You were the first to say it: you have it bad. I never knew. I had no comparison. I still don’t think of it that way; sounds weak, pathetic. But I understand. With you, I dropped the weight I didn’t know I carried. Your eyes held the resolution of so many fruitless searches. When you look away, I know it without seeing. It ripples through me. Draws me back. You know that feeling when your legs aren’t yours? When they move your feet to places unkind?

Lady Stardust

Did you ever have a change come into your life that disrupts everything? I don’t mean like losing your job or having your leg suddenly fall off or watching a close relative spontaneously explode while sitting on your new sofa. I mean like your interaction with someone suddenly goes {poof!}. You’re left with – well, I am left with – this gaping hole in my life.

I can’t fill it with just anything. It’s not just the available time that once was spent together. It’s not just time. That would be easy. There is always sports on television and solitaire on the computer. It is much broader than that.

The hole is the time spent apart that now needs tending. It was the fantasies: walks through fields of wild flowers, ethereal conversations seated in a garden, travels to nowhere but never alone, and safety’s warm embrace.

There is no way to fill a hole like that. You just move forward, hoping that what once filled the hole comes back or, worse, you give up hoping.

Time alone sucks. Distance does not make the heart grow fonder. It introduces self-doubt. It takes away that false cloak of security and allows the cold winds to encircle you. Exposed to the elements, you add another layer of protection around your soul. It embitters you.

God, I need a fucking cigarette.