The space between grows.
The days turns into weeks
Weeks into months
I could drive to get to you and that would take back the distance/the time/the space….
Everyday for 5 years we were together. Everyday for 5 years we spoke. Now 48 hours feels like a lifetime apart. I miss you.
It’s this same time last year when you crushed my heart. I felt my insides explode and I became nothing but mush. That blob of being crawled into bed-devastated-unwilling to come up for air. I cocooned my heart and stayed twisted up in my chrysalis.
Those tears I cried and cried were hard to release. I thought if I stayed protected reality couldn’t get me. I could continue to live in my fantasy. In amazement and disbelief I pondered “Am I so unloveable?”
You said desire. Undesirable. As in you didn’t desire. Like I was a piece of moldy cheese that has dropped on the floor. You threw me away. Undesirable.
Time passed and the damage was done. I held onto hope, unwilling to let the dreams of what could have been. A full calendar year of seasons passed and here I am. Small morsels of rotten cheese trailed into the garage. The field mice desired me more than you. So I existed in an unused empty space full of cobwebs. This was my home now.
It’s a cold sunny day in my heart. Bundled up and protected with layer upon of layers from the ice. Still filled with joy and glimmers of possibilities unknown in the spring. If you look close enough you can see I still have life in me, rustling away under sheets of ice. Deep sadness wrapped up in winter cushion. This blob hibernates dormant until it can be reborn a new woman. Desirable..
Only rainy warm spring days ahead;
Only warm spring days ahead;
Only spring days ahead
I woke up at 4:33am this morning with emptiness in the pit of my stomach. I remembered how empty the house felt with small traces of my presence lingering.
The dust collected in the corners of the room has been cleaned. The artwork no longer hangs. Empty hooks line the walls. If you look hard enough you will see the markings of what used to be there; with me/without me. 5 years together is nothing more than a mark, a scuff of paint left behind to be repainted, as if to leave no trace.
You were the person who filled my cracks, repaired my walls, and gave me the possibility of new beginnings. So much was poured into me and never I into you. I poured myself into boxes tucked away on the fourth floor of storage, #4083. Nothing special, no angel number here. Herein lies my life, in a 10×10 cell which I contain my sorrow. I lock it away and hope for today I can keep it there.
930 dreams lost. 930 tears shed. 930 moments spent together. 930 fields I lay awake.
Breathe in. No texts. No calls. No drive-bys of what used to be. Lost dreams buried in the backyard. And empty hooks hangs new coats.
An Iris Growing in the Negev 
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