anxious
I have gone through the motions of today without once straying from the clearly defined and easy-to-read itinerary I write for myself at the start of each morning. For the places I'll need to go and the things I'll have to do, there is a time and a good reason.
But this tiny list on this tiny post-it crumpled up in my jeans does not account for the number of heartbeats I will skip tonight, the inward kicks and stomach flips, the gallons of air lost to swallowed nerves.
There is no place on my to do list for this theatre of discontent.
I walk inside, drop my bag, shut the door, keep my eyes on the bunny poop as I prattle about the cold and things I know I don't need to apologize for. Sorry I'm late, No it's fine, I feel bad, Really I don't mind, All right.
We watch the movie. And I know I'm happy. I have no better reason for being here tonight.
When the scenes get boring, we talk about sad stuff and I can see that you're drained, and you do your best to shake it off - smiling through it like it's no big deal.
I winced when you spoke of the inevitable spring. "Just don't think about it. Really, don't." Yeah, well. Missing people is something I can deal with. It was the implication. But I guess you respect me enough not to hide it. Don't get too close. Don't get close at all. Just like that, it's over before it begins.
I feel as though you've already left.
But this tiny list on this tiny post-it crumpled up in my jeans does not account for the number of heartbeats I will skip tonight, the inward kicks and stomach flips, the gallons of air lost to swallowed nerves.
There is no place on my to do list for this theatre of discontent.
I walk inside, drop my bag, shut the door, keep my eyes on the bunny poop as I prattle about the cold and things I know I don't need to apologize for. Sorry I'm late, No it's fine, I feel bad, Really I don't mind, All right.
We watch the movie. And I know I'm happy. I have no better reason for being here tonight.
When the scenes get boring, we talk about sad stuff and I can see that you're drained, and you do your best to shake it off - smiling through it like it's no big deal.
I winced when you spoke of the inevitable spring. "Just don't think about it. Really, don't." Yeah, well. Missing people is something I can deal with. It was the implication. But I guess you respect me enough not to hide it. Don't get too close. Don't get close at all. Just like that, it's over before it begins.
I feel as though you've already left.