Weekends were special.
Now: oblivion. A stretch without
As for Monday?
I have a local "Tom Keeper" who insists we do a hike. A fitness nut, a high school teacher. She's adopted me I think as a pity case. Not resisting: need her to attack hills.
I've put my PAID BEST FRIEND (my shrink) on every-other-Monday schedule ... to see if I can survive his absence. not looking good
My diary tells me: It's about time to grow up and get over it.
Or NOT: fully open to that option.
Life is a gift. Really? I can survive being food (maybe not?) for A SNAKE? Eat well, my species.
Loss is a gift, too: that burning package of dog shit that once flamed on your front door that weird Halloween. Or something crazy WILDLY better!!! (True stories.)
Simone and I stood, surveyed, agreed about a new element just found in a physics lab. What did we know? The future is amazing. (Yeah: she was the pessimist. My name tag: leaning optimist. For now. Until optimism isn't so much anymore. Because human population has exceeded any real science's ability to predict. And human poliltics went into the bathhouse.)
Simone and me together are a gift. Grasp, clasp, don't hesitate.
And this is cruel I'll say: because a small fraction finds that OTHER's true love
who will walk comfortably beside you, as I've been made aware
-----
I'm selfish: sorry Sim One
now it's just us
miss you more than can absorb
down my throat day night
love you so much, so much, so far
my mask irrigates tears
you too flap flap
dear fellow mortals why
why am i screaming into my vast desktop right now
because
...
i want you
to know without ears
what you made me into
it hurts
IT HURTS
and that's love
out the other end