exiting the train and approaching the building, i looked up to my darkened windows. it was late enough that mostly everybody's apartment was dark anyway. but that lack of light meant... empty. suddenly i was filled with such despair. it was awful. it wasn't from being in the presence of spouses. there was nothing overtly romantic, or even tender, about them. more that "like an old slipper" energy. it wasn't a "reaction", i don't think, that caused the swaff over me. it felt so deeply internal.
i wanted so badly to be in someone's arms, just held. lie in bed, breathing softly together. not fucking, (well, jbf'ed, maybe.) maybe talking. or not. i cannot recall the last time i wanted companionship so badly. missing and wanting the g.c. was different, because it was specific to him. this was a genuine pang of lonely. these last weeks i have been overly solitary. even for me. overtly may be more precise there, having several times decided just to stay in, uncertain i could conjure up my life-of-party self.
so what then? it was such a decidedly physical sensation, perhaps i'm content to chalk it up to hormones. as my body starts to change, i'm thinking that "time of the month" may become more apparent, whereas in the past it's always been just another day. my emotions mostly held on an even keel.
today i feel better, and will spend the next several hours with a dear friend. the editor will be on a plane tomorrow, so i'm assured of both tender company and lots of bruising soon.
as i ponder my conclusion here, i can't help but wonder if i'm allowing myself to acknowledge my "self"? my wants, needs, desires. "my", "mine", "me".
me. hmph. fancy that.
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