Flickr / Caterina Appia
You’re going to reach a point when you’ve had enough. When your fire is muted, each small piece of coal having abandoned its orange glow, settling into the sea of dark gray matter. At some point, your fight will leave you. You’ll wrap your arms around your knees and hug so tightly, holding yourself together when you so desperately want to fall apart.
There’s going to be a time you unravel, come apart at the seams, and puddle loosely on the hardwood floor that hasn’t been swept since St. Patrick’s Day of last year.
There’s going to be a time when you feel like you’re not doing your best work. When you feel like you’re not being your best self. When you sit in the silence and think about what can change, picking at your cuticles and feeling like you’re wasting time. Contemplating an early wake…
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It will start slowly, the way these things often do. It won’t feel slow; in fact, it will seem sudden — you’ll wake up and look over at the space next to you and think that something must have snapped in the night. But it didn’t happen there. It couldn’t have. You’ve long since abandoned the possibility that anything could happen in your sleep.
It will happen in the absence, in the nights they spent with their friends and you with yours. It’s good for you, you’ll rationalize. Everyone needs to spend some time apart. But time apart can tear you apart if you’re not careful, and slowly you will forget how to stitch yourself back together, how to return at the end of the day and fit yourself back into the crook of their neck, into the space between their arm and body like you never even left…
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