I carry the half-empty trash to the bin, all dressed up in red, with nothing to do and no one to call.
My stomach pulses at the thought of you, knowing it is done; pissed off, sad, and angry over it all.
I can't decide if I feel more alone with or without you.
I look up at the sky, noticing how the clouds blend together in that way they sometimes do... when I can't tell where one ends and the next begins.
And I wish that was how it was with you.
Instead, there is a distinct moment when you began. I can picture exactly where I was, where you were, what we were doing and how it felt.
And then suddenly, you were everything in my life-- my thoughts, movements, ideas, and body were filled with you.
I lived like that, not allowing anything else in, not even myself for some crazy long time...
It felt like longer than I had done anything.
I became exhausted and empty... All that once filled me had been replaced by you and everything you needed and wanted. The line between you and me had completely disappeared.
And then suddenly, just like it had began, it was over.
I remember exactly where I was when it ended; how it felt and what I was doing.
And then everything turned wispy, like the clouds on Thanksgiving, blown into the Pacific Ocean.
Now I can barely hold onto anything. My grasp is a complete failure and I spend almost every moment alone, looking up at the sky, reminiscing about lovers blown into the Pacific ocean like the wispy clouds of the San Francisco bay.