Zo My God

I can't even begin to cover how it feels to be with you, my pirate twin. You were there. You know. It's almost impossible to comprehend. There was so much. And all of it good. All of it ... right. I could try to describe it for days (and will) but in the end, that's the only word that will do: right.

And now you're gone. I believe that you love me. Believe that you'll be back, and believe that we'll have a life together better than the one in our dreams, because so far everything with you has been better than I could have imagined. Better than I did imagine. More ... everything. More right. But right now I can't feel much more than the loss of you, albeit temporary and in presence alone. I can't feel the hope in my heart for the aching emptiness, can't see the future for the despairing present, and can't dream, through the tears. I know this is temporary. I know, in some part of me that we'll be together again, but right now that doesn't matter. Right now I want you with me and you're not here.

You should know that this is the polar opposite of how I usually feel when left alone. In fact, I usually can't wait to be alone, and when I've shared space with another for any amount of time, it's not long before I wish they were not there. When they finally do depart, I breathe a sigh of relief and set about becoming myself again. Tonight, after I got home and felt your absence, I spent about 20 minutes puttering, wondering what to do with myself. Then I breathed a sigh and decided to set about trying to become myself again, and discovered that I didn't have to; that I already was and had been the entire time I'd been with you. This never happens.

Now I'm alternating between writing to you and curling up on the bed, alone, breathing in the scent of your hair and your body and trying very hard not to cry, scream or throw myself at the walls. Gnashing of teeth, rending of clothes, etc. I miss you. I love you. You're mine and I'm not letting you go.