Business Week.

It has been nearly a business week since I have last written.  Mainly because I have been inundated with work as I am gearing up for another adventure elsewhere, but also because outside of work, there's not much to write about.  I get up at the most obscene hour... I drive the hour to work... I work insane hours... I drive the hour home... Wash, rinse, repeat- no derrivations.  The weekends are just as predictable. 

Maybe this is a good thing.  At least I will never be blindsided.

Sherry.

Even having a glass of sherry is not the same.

I miss you.

Memory.

"Memory is an invasive entity; it's threatening."

Think.

I think tonight will be another sleepless night.

Market Day.

I just returned from the farmer's market at the end of Fayetteville Street.  This week's fresh fruit and vegetable offerings seem to mark the beginning of the height of the season.  Berries and peaches abound.  Salads and flowers nearly every other stand.  The smell of fresh baked bread wafted in the wind with the sounds of a local band.  My guys admiring pretty girls in sundresses; my admiration of my guys in general. 

I left with my usual apple strudel from the German baker, guys in tow.  The only thing missing from this brief escape from the office was you.

This is never far from my mind.

Maybe.

"breathe out
so i can breathe you in
hold you in"


Maybe one day again.

"...is it cold in your corner of the world?"

Forsaken.

It is said God will not give you more than you can handle.  If that is the case, why can I not handle missing you?

I sometimes think He has forsaken me as you have.

I have hope...but very little right now.

Happy Father's Day

Happy Father's Day.  Always remember I think you are the best father ever.  The kids love you more than anything in the world.  Never doubt yourself that you are anything less.  You are their heart... and a shadow of mine.

Awful.

Quite simply put, I miss you something awful.

Missing.

As I prepare for the weekend out, all I can think of is "I am missing something."  I hope you are fairing well and not missing anything.  It is an awful feeling and I do not want that for you.

Damn You.

(It is now the hardest part of my day.  The time in between being awake and falling into a fitful sleep is spent thinking about you.) 










Damn you.

Unconditional

While yesterday was not a very elegant start, it was at least a start. 

I have run the gauntlet of emotions, but the one I can say trumps them all is hurt.  Regardless, I want to write to you.  I want you to one day know what my very thoughts were on any particular day.  While you did not think me worthy of an explaination, I still deem you an exclusive patron of my thoughts in hopes one day you will reconsider- even if another twenty years must pass. 

Unconditional is just that.

Ten Days

"You have hurt me deeply."










Ten days have passed and all I can muster are those five pathetic words.