03 November 2015

It's pouring rain outside my apartment. I'm sitting here, mostly in the dark.
A strand of old Christmas lights and a few candles glowing.
I'm thankful and tired.
Hopeful and drowning.

It's still odd to me how much time can pass and how much things change.
And don't.
How much what happened a year ago can feel like 3 days ago sometimes.
And that pain in my chest can rise up again.
And it's still odd to me how I have not been able to let go.
Everyone wants to offer up advice and suggestions and tell me what I'm doing wrong.
Tell me what you did wrong.
Tell me time heals all wounds. Or something. Or so they read in a magazine.

I go back and forth about my direction in my professional life often.
But not about you. You're the one thing I am always so certain about.

It's pouring rain outside my apartment. Thunder and lightening are battling, too.
I should be finding myself in bed now, resting before another day for another few dollars.
But it's nights like these, which are nights like most...rain or not... that my mind travels backward.
To conversations.
To decisions.
To looks and careful embraces.
To you on the corner of my street.
To me running my hands down your back on that final hug so I could remember.
So it would stick.

And now I'm here.
And you're there.
And just few thousands miles rolls on between us.

It's pouring rain outside my apartment. And I'm here, mostly in the dark.
And nothing will change but everything once the sky clears up.
Once this feeling clears up.
Once I decide to let go and get over it in the morning.

Because everyone wants to offer up advice.
And maybe it's time that I take it.


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