2002.07.03

All gone now

Comments

It’s four nights later, and I’ve run out of distractions. It’s just me and my computer here in bed (ah, wireless networking); I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep. It doesn’t help that some idiot down the street has decided that he doesn’t need to wait until tomorrow to start setting off the arsenal.

Long distance relationships are just awful. Hello, one night, two nights, airport, good-bye, see you in a month and a half. After that, week upon week spent trying to forget, or maybe to remember; whether playing scrabble late into the night, or clutching some piece of well-worn cloth as I sleep, hoping to conjure a ghost. I’ve gotten pretty good at distracting myself. I lose myself in my friends, or in late-night websurfing, or by forcing myself to stay awake in front of the television into the late hours of the night. It’s easy to let someone else think for me.

I’m too tired for that now. That deep, cool ache of the bone that normally creeps into my body at the crack of dawn is already here; lack of sleep and too much activity have seen to that. And so I’m here under the covers trying to imagine that I don’t have to deal with this until August.

There are moments that sustain me. A face, half-obscured behind a jumble of bodies but instantly recognizable, emerging from the jetway. Warm breath on my cheek. The quiet moments of introspection, when nobody knows I’m looking.

But tonight, it’s cold, and I’m tired, and I can’t fall asleep. Tomorrow, Vancouver, which in theory should be nice and distracting. From here, though, it seems like a hundred years away.

Album of the day: Jenny Choi, Bittersweet. Appropriate.

  • Rachel

    Hi,

    I happened to stumble upon this page via a very good friend of mine.

    I just wanted to let you know I thought this piece was beautifully written and incredibly sweet.

    For a person who never believed in the success rate of long-distance relationships, thank you for providing a little glimmer of hope. =)

    Best wishes,

    Rachel

  • a

    Sorry, Y. I know what that's like. On the upside - if you want an upside - at least you know there /will/ be a next time. Maybe that makes it just a little, tiny bit easier.

  • Pig

    Oink! Oink! Oink!

    I love you!

blog comments powered by Disqus

Powered by
Movable Type 5.2
neonepiphany dot com