“Give me the simple life…”
I must learn how to live again.
My surroundings meld to gray. Ignore the brilliance of the oranges, the reds, purple, tallowed yellows. They do not exist any longer. May my visual acuity turn bland.
Let my energy focus on turning off life force. I must not linger, too long, over music, my love, my Beloved. They cannot breathe where they used to prevent rain.
The rain outside seeping in and whimpering now where it used to be full-on blue rain no longer. No longer. The sumptuousness of the wet and her smell of the rain no longer exists.
Since the moment of bliss, the thrilling kiss, heaven has shut her door on me for romance on the menu. There is no longer the slide slide slide pushiness of sex to wound through afternoons. That part of me is dead.
Day in. Day out.
Gershwin’s horns and the strings meeting at crescendo mean nothing to me anymore.
It came out of my mouth quickly and without thinking yesterday and it was the opening of a door, “Mary is dead…” and my friend and I both were frozen, grimacing and nodding.
I will promise you nothing and promise myself everything for now on.
The next three months are an end of a season.
I will, I must make the lap to Christmas Eve. Marker.
Hello to a death march of trudgery, of plannedness, for wellness to persevere, to a life where nothing at all else marks me, ever again. Never again. Never again. She has killed me already many deaths daily, night sweating into obliviousness, holding on for footing.
The pain and the harm experienced is grievous. Were I to hold unlimited capital, I would correct the crime breaking another’s Beloved heart, but I instead do not.
That I lack a tribe, a community, a family, a prompter, I task, now.