In Absentia

I wake up in the afternoon.
Sleep, a struggle 
to wake up from nightmarish dreams
which ensnare me
Visions so real I begin to wonder 
if I lost them to time and age and anxiety
and forgetfulness and stupidity
What else is lost? Besides time?
What else is there to lose anyway?

Sun is up. Windows have let curious rectangles of light scour the floor.
My glazed eyes search for familiarity in this house 
a smell, a voice, a shape.
Wispy image of you forms in my head
Faint yet there.
But you are not to be found.
It doesn't surprise, though something sinks in the pit of my stomach. 
You moved away. Yet the vacancy you leave stares at me, 
in half emptied cupboards and cabinets 
in folds of bed covers and curtains of your choice
You are Gone. Yes.
Not accusing, not comforting. 
Just a fact, cold and uncaring, 
like millions of miles of space swarming with dead rocks

There was a picture on the nightstand that is gone with you
 — a slice of time we caught in a pretty frame — 
Two of us laughing in a cornfield under the fading sun
You wrapped in my arms, glowing, whispering 
Do you remember it differently? I never asked you. 
It always seemed we remembered things differently.

Two years.
Our lives intertwined like snakes
Waking late in the morning on weekends 
and squabbling over who would make breakfast 
and who would clean the apartment. Jesus.
Remember? Endless talks in a room swimming in cigarette smoke
And that one time when you ran and jumped on the table 
because the ugliest fattest rat anyone ever saw scurried by your feet. 
The chilling cold and us wrapped into each other for an eternity. 
All that and some more…still with me here.

But then, somewhere cracks started to form
in us, between us, around us. 
We were broken earth under the sun, dying of thirst 
Our presence became heavy, deliberate, obtrusive 
and we talked because we had to
to prove to ourselves: 
we were still connected, still in love.
But however much we went to movies, shopping, and partying,
the heaviness never left.
And one day when I told you I felt alone with you, 
and that this was not what I wanted,
you cried. And then I cried. 
You said you were sorry and that you felt the same.

Days have turned into weeks. 
I haven’t heard from you. 
I don’t know if there is any point waiting 
But hey, for old times sake I hope you are really happy. 
I want to tell you that.

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