haven’t been very stable for the past two days.
not sure whether it’s because of the kite runner.
or whether it’s because of the short conversation earlier this week.
it’s too much.
a headache. a neck sore.
the calm voice.
the logic.
yet i don’t want to talk about it.
i’m ok but i’m not ok.
quite shattered but knowing that even if i stood at your doorway,
you would be quite helpless.
who wouldn’t?
and i wouldn’t want to put you there anyway.
or put anyone there in fact.
wishing i was invisible at times.
then i wouldn’t get that strange glare on the bus.
upset.
because i do not know how your days are.
i miss the details.
i wonder what you ate for the day.
i wonder how many coffees you had.
what kind.
whether you had v8 or apple juice for breakfast.
i wish you’d known what i had for breakfast.
i wish you’d known that i went to work late and left work early.
i wish you’d known how many time i’d run to the bathroom.
i wish you’d ask about my dinner.
i wish you’d ask about the weather.
a thousand times over.
