I'm nursing this half bottle of wine like a drowning woman - Vegas is on a flight back home over the Atlantic and I don't know what to do with myself. Am fighting tears with every breath I take, over and over and over again. Must. Not. Cry.
PMS is not helping, stupid hormones.
Neither is this mega-super-shitty-siberian cold and wind, oh Montreal: city with no heart that is with overflowing with icy congested snowy streets, I had to park my car blocks away from home cuz there is no parking to be found, now that is something awesome to come home to after dropping your love at the airport...
Fuck!!
Am wearing the sweatshirt he left behind, in the hopes to warm up the cold that envelopes me to the bone.
I know I am loved, I feel loved, I feel whole - however the stark emptiness that his physical absence has left behind has me dizzy and feeling ill, my heart is echoing in my chest as jack frost draws demons on the windows - how will I ever manage a night's sleep in the bed that still smells of him, of us?
This wine better knock me the hell out.
Why am I so fucking weak?!
2 comments:
Me too. Only my sweater is an old one I couldn't wear because he was allergic to it. :)
It's a night for hardness. :(
(hugs)
Hugs from me too. Gain strength from knowing that as each day passes, it brings you one day closer to seeing him again.
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