Old news....

Out of the last six days I have enjoyed about four or five hours. Hours I spent with her. And after those hours, as always after parting, the curtain of realization would again start to fall and and again it would get darker and darker . Life would at least turn into grey if I didn't deprive myself of those bright hours. She will never come back to you. She may love you but she will never come back. She's looking forward and you are not in her field of vision. You wish so hard that you can catch up with her but you're always a few paces behind. Just close enough that she is aware of you but she won't look back at what is behind her.

I've never had too much trouble detatching myself before so why I'm still so painfully entangled is beyond me. These are not just emotional strings to be cut through , these are the chains of all hope.
I have no explaination of this process on this scale. Moving on was never such a problem before. This time I should be cruel to myself to be kind but that is just the logical angle. Anger and frustration with myself are the emotions to be tackled and she takes them away for a few hours a week.
Her pace may quicken everyday and you will naturally fall behind and eventually she will be so far ahead that even if she did look back you would be too small to see.

After I typed this in I stood up and went to the window. There were still kids playing in the fading light and their screams of exitement made me smile inside. The phone rang in the other room and as always I rushed to grab it as though it were a lifeline to someone going under. As so often I was disappointed at who the caller was but I remained polite if not a little distant. There was no warmth to draw me any closer and it may have sounded like a bussiness call. It took up some time but no energy. Not one word had influence on how I felt or what I thought. After the call I had completely forgotten what I was doing so I just stayed sitting there, full of so much but feeling empty.
Not full of myself, that's for sure! Full of crap, maybe? Full of thoughts that only a sane man would think when he thinks he's going mad.

The next day after showering and eating a small breakfast I decided to go out with no particular purpose in mind. So I put on my hat and gloves as the weather demanded. Before opening the door I turned to check myself in the mirror which was just as well. There I stood in just my hat and gloves. But I remembered remembering getting dressed. But I must have remembered yesterday because there I stood trying to remember how a sane man would smile. But the smile broke out of it's own accord so therefore I knew I wasn't mad. I had just forgotten to get dressed. I hadn't forgotten how to get dressed because that is what I then did.
As I was on my way out the door the phone rang again. I waited for the answering machine. And then there was her voice, I didn't rush. I didn't move. I had gone so cold I had gone blind and couldn't see the lifeline, and being saved wasn't worth thrashing around for.

Outside the streets all seemed very sensible. The cold air on my face strangely enough took me back to a far warmer, happier place. It was a place where happiness and calm outweighed interlect. It was a place of comfort. Temporary comfort. If it were only true that these streets could be this place. I wandered through streets I had seen a thousand times before but everything was new. I turned into an allyway and bumped into two men fighting. They were not small men but both the worse for drink. And suddenly the self deluded warmth was gone. The feeling and the streets again became cold. It was time to find a place which served good coffee and where there was not too much noise.
I walked a hundred meters and found a friendly looking brown cafe. I walked in. I couldn't help but check myself out in the bar mirror. Thank God ; I was fully clothed.