Mr Suitcase

one of the things i miss the most about the company of The Guy, is that easy reassuring way he has of embracing the concept of who i am. when he is away, there is a slightly dislocated feeling - like I am not quite sure which me i am. plus, at the end of kiddie-filled days, there is an absense of deeper communication. after a few days i get the feeling i am drinking from a very shallow word pool - the surface of which is quite still and my reflection is all i see without the ripple or whirl of company. our phone conversations tend to irk me as they are a mirage between time zones (i am not my dynamic best at 1.15am) and do not pay homage to our usual banter but instead stretch out in pauses of things unsaid or bounce together in flimsy sentences that overlap down the lines. it is a bit like trying to drink upside down out of the word pool - messy - and you end up with a wet face. thankfully, by nature i am at peace on my own, and suffer no anxious ambition to stuff the space with white noise. days become more fluid and ribbon along till their abrupt splash into reunion at the end of our time apart.
learning to dive deep again into sharing life takes me a little while - the mes in me rearrange till a different order is resumed and the word pool becomes an inky well, ironically not beyond the choppy scope of storms. Come home soon Mr Suitbag.

Greg  – (March 26, 2009 at 1:25 PM)  

Mr Suitbag is packing tonight. Drinking upside down from the word pool. That's pure word magic.

I'll see you soon Love.

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