Etc.

I am mostly glad to be home. I love my apartment, my city, my stuff, my routine. Not sleeping on an air mattress last night was lovely. Being by myself is lovely.

Break up wise, it's harder to be here than in another town and so overwhelmed by contact with other people that I was kind of numb. Went for a walk late this morning and it felt like every corner either had a memory to tell or his ghost walking towards me.

I'm still flipping between being righteously angry, bloody confused, and sad.

I miss him. No fancy words for it. Just this bruise I can't stop pressing. I would say it's on my heart but it actually feels like it's at the base of my throat, just above my right collarbone.

I was going to write that I wish it were two weeks ago, but I don't even. I knew this was coming two weeks ago. I wish it were a week before the time things started to go awry, not that I could pinpoint that moment, but I want someone to find it and hit rewind, our legs jerking backwards, mouths moving out of sync; freeze frame; splice; forward, a little to the left, the right way down the right path, limbs and minds working smoothly together, smiles and entwined fingers.