2 years later
And then I’m driving away for the last time, and there’s gospel blues playing, but it doesn’t really matter. And it hasn’t quite hit me yet because I’m numb to all the years we shared, a third of my life, depending on how you look at it. But now I am out of your equation; there is someone else.
I stick to drinking and flirting, and telling really, really bad jokes. I don’t ever want to be seen again and I certainly don’t want to be alone. I get a spot with an old friend, and start fresh.
Every conversation feels like birds chirping at one another. We trade sounds for feelings, constantly, and everything feels empty and transactional and gross.
Where is the intimacy? Where are the fingers and toes I used to feel the world with?