It feels like ages... it's been six days. Ages.

Absence they say makes the heart grow fonder but I question it. I suppose there is a certain accent placed on the need of that which is absent. It's not like my air is gone, no he is not my air. It's not like meaning has fled; he is not my meaning. I am not numb in his absence; he is not my heart. He is my pleasure, he is my joy. He is not all of my laughter but the laughs I love the most.

I feel like I've heard somewhere the expression or sentiment "The sun shines on me in his absence but it gives me not warmth." I'm not yet that dramatic but with a few more days I might be. Luckily my plight will likely end tomorrow, or today should we be strict about the hour though I'll sleep in between.

I began to stagnate I could feel it. I hadn't drawn I hadn't painted in months so I brought out the alcohol I brought out the cloves I brought out my sketch book and set them in rows...

I drew with my left hand I drew in the night I drew the same thing I'd drawn three years ago. It was slightly more stylistic and about 45% larger but it was the same expression the same tilt. The same disturbing miserable woman.

I hate that picture I don't like looking at it I skip right over it I've had to talk myself of ripping it out and throwing it out I lamented that it had to be on the page following a drawing I liked.

Not a good sign.... and kind of creepy.

I like the way he looks down into my face as I walk by looking up into his.
I like the way his face lights up when he sees me across the room.
I like the way he messes up my hair.
I like the way time stands still when he’s just looking at me and listening.
I like the way he calls me dear and the way my name sounds when he says it.

I like the way he walks.
I like the way he closes his eyes when he’s on stage playing something he loves.
I like the way he comes into a room.
I like the way he greets people with that huge friendly smile.
I like the way he loves people and always leaves them smiling.

I like the way my eye finds him as soon as he comes into sight.
I like the way feel dizzy when he leans down to read over my shoulder.
I like the way I can help but smile when I think of his when he’s not there.

If you listen the quiet room of a library isn't very quiet.

There's the creek of the chairs the rumbling glide of wheeled chairs the tink tap thump of keyboards the rustle swoosh of bag straps sliding off shoulders the clearing of throats and an occasional sigh, the hum of the air conditioner and the buz of florescent lights the tap tap tap of women's shoes and the sudden clink of a dropped pen the slow squeak of the door hinges and the chunk as it falls closed again, pages swish as their turned and someone releases a stack of books as they thump onto the table. a gradual breathing grows louder slower and deeper as someone falls into sleep the quixk zzzzip of a bag startles them back to groggy wakefulness with a sharp saliva filled intake of breath. someone taps their pencil on the table absentmindedly until the sharp through clearing of a nearby neighbor urges them to stop.

Tink-tink tap thump tink-tink thump tap tap tap thump tink thump think tink tap crack swish zzzzip buzz hum ahem.

I sat perched on the edge of the plastic chair on my balcony poised with pencil and sketch pad. I eyed the view before me looking for inspiration. These idle afternoons with no interruption can be maddening.

Cognitive psychologists say that if you can change your automatic thoughts you can change your behaviors... some psychologists say that people who suffer from various disorders have persistent repetitive thoughts that intrude and refuse to be controlled. One pops into my mind:

I don't want to live my life waiting to die.

overandoverandoverandoverandover

The lyrics to a recently heard song filter into my thoughts..... "When he's with me he's the only one I see"
Another thought repeats:

You were just blocking my view.

overandoverandoverandoverandover

I can't see the trees in front of me. The creek has faded away. I draw my thoughts in the shapes of the alphabet. They looked something like this:


When  you were  here
all I could see was you
now that you're gone I can see
you were just blocking my view

Won't spend another day hopin'
Won't spend another day wishin'
Won't spend another day wastin'
My life .... on you

Don't want to live my life waiting to die
Won't let another day come and pass me by
Cuz this life's so short
I can't be wasting my time
wont' let another day
come and pass me by

Won't spend another day hopin'
Won't spend another day wishin'
Won't spend another day wastin'
My life.... on you
My life... on you
You're just blocking my view
I won't waste my life on you