It is 8 AM. I have been up since 5. The last three mornings I have woken up just before the call of prayer. I hear it, and for a second I think that maybe God wants it to soothe me, but right now God can go and fuck right off. The pain is unbearable and I am pacing from room to room, as if I can walk away from it. I both, long to be free from it and can’t stand the thought of the pain ending because it would mean I was able to let him go. How could I let him go? What I can do, is make a list (I love lists) of things that I would like to someday be able to do.
Eat. Guys, food is disgusting and I don’t know why we put that filth in our mouths.
Yoga. First I have to remember how to eat, because yoga is hard.
Teach my writing class on Sundays again.
Dance. This one is extra hard because dancing is how we fell in love. We do it together wonderfully. He does it on his own even better.
Sleep past 5 AM. Or wake up at 5 because I am happy to start a new day.
To not feel like I am dying.
To not be in pain for a full minute and then an hour and then a day.
To remember that this is not all of my fault and that he is the one who left.
Read. I tore up and threw out my books of Rumi and Neruda poetry because that is also how we fell in love.
Give the tiniest of shits about someone else’s day.
See a happy couple and not want to stab them.
Not care where he is every second of every day.
Water my plants. He hates plants.
Wear red lipstick. He hates red lipstick.
Wake up next to him and see his halo of chestnut curls and be completely and utterly happy.