So I’m purposely noting feelings surfacing as I go through stages of…grief? Is that what you call it? It’s the kind of grinding sadness that accompanies shades of loss. What is lost has a great deal to do with how severe these feelings are, at least in terms of a person’s perception of what that “what” is. In my case, the girl I’ve spent the last six months getting to know has left for four months to excel at an internship at NPR’s science desk in Washington, DC. This counts as the first time I’ve ever attempted a long-distance relationship and, as I’m discovering, it’s a little on the difficult side. Let’s start (unartistically) with the morning.
For months now I’ve been waking up next to Megan, and now in dreamy twilight, when your eyelids begin to crack open and you aren’t certain whether the lover next to you is more dream or alive (but without a doubt is a combination of both) I reach for her and come away empty-handed. That wakes me up more than the sun ever has. It’s a raw way to start the day, and makes me not even want to take a shower. I roll over onto my back and just stare at the ceiling and imagine her waking up because I shifted in bed, and slinging an arm and leg over me and laying her head on my chest to snooze. That, at this point, may be my most comforting memory/hallucination.
That’s all for today. Stayed up unti 3 last night just zombified in front of the television and had to work at 7:30. Since the middle of December I’ve not had a day to myself, and won’t get one over break until the day before school begins, when I have to prepare for that. /sigh I’ve had worse vacations, but none busier. Probably this is just the beginning. Toast the death of romance with professional cups.