Fall

Looking back at last fall, I cannot help but realize that the happiness I experienced was definitely not shared. Compared to falling in live, wildly combining two lives into one and not knowing how one could have ever lived without the other, this process of living in two different dwellings forges little holes here and there in that fabric which had wrapped the two into one. Now I have to learn to live as a single again. I receive tips on how not to fall behind my work and not to spend long mornings in bed. Short text messages tell me to pick up the pieces and put them on paper so that I could move on in my life. Go and have dinner with friends. Ask Donna and Vicky to come to the house for a sandwich. Meet for coffee with your office mate or revive the tradition of having lunch dates at Qdoba every Tuesday. Longingly, I wait for an invitation from the speaker on my phone instead. We will talk and stay in touch, I hear loud and clear. We will talk. This line elevates me off the ground, where I hang suspended in the air tied with the remains of the garment to invisible columns that once I considered the foundation for this relationship.