Tangible

I’ve been too busy reading other people’s stories to remember to write my own. I’ve been trying to distance myself from the feelings I know will come pouring out when I put pen to paper. But I guess its inevitable, they’re rattling around in there whether or not they make it to the paper so I might as well put them down…here it is.
I sleep with the green shirt I stole from him years ago in hopes of pulling off the last bit of his scent – I know there isn’t any left. Some how the soft worn in cotton still feels good against my skin, it feels bitter-sweet. Reminding me of all the times I tried to sleep next to Him in it, but the gentle comfort of it on my skin was always replaced by the warmth of his rough hands – a welcome exchange, although I often put up a bit of a struggle, just for the sake of it. It’s the one piece of him I know I truly have with me. I don’t’ know if I can still occupy a corner of his heart or if he still thinks about me as he comes home to an empty apartment. But I do know that I have this one tangible piece of us, and I hold onto it for dear life. I no longer wear the ring He gave me, I don’t define myself in relation to Him, but I hold onto the old holey green shirt I stole from him when we were both at Denison, it seems like an eternity ago. I still hold tight. I think that if maybe I hold tight enough he’ll feel it, maybe if I wish these memories into him he’ll start to miss me…just a little.
It’s a last ditch effort to figure out how to have this love and this chosen exile. It’s hard and in all honesty I’m sure this winter will be harder. I’m a little afraid I’ll be living in some weird version of last year. I’d love to meet the woman who immerged directly after that but under no circumstances want to relive the events who brought her about. I don’t need another winter of sadness, another few months of not eating; another Christmas spent wishing he’d call. I don’t need any of that. I’m ready for the happiness that was the preceding 4 years. I’m in need of that rock. I want to come home to some one when I return. I want to be loved.