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Thursday, March 14, 2013

A Touch

I was so exhausted, and I knew once I stopped there would be no getting back up. So instead of sitting down when I reached home today I headed straight to the back yard  to  mow the tall spring grass before putting out the green waste container for the garbage pick up tomorrow. I also raked up dead leaves from one corner of the patio to line the compost pit in the back yard and then took the time to spread all of the food scraps I'd been saving over it to make the next layer. I imagine that the pulp from juicing will give a head start to that whole decomp process.

After icing my back and having a quick visit from the girls who had stopped by to see how the seedlings were growing I landed in the kitchen, elbows on the counter and straw in my mouth. Too tired to pick up my juice container I slumped there drinking to slake the thirst I had worked up. And H came in the kitchen to get something and barely touched me as he  brushed past to the counter at the end of the kitchen. His hand was electric on my waist and it so pisses me off that at this late date in the game my body can betray me like that.

Now my throat aches and I'm sitting in the shadows of my office trying not to cry and trying to find my muchness to beat down these feelings. This was the best of us, the chemistry we had, and this is the part my grief tore to bits. I don't think either one of us will ever forget what it was once like, and while there are always two sides to every story, I know without a doubt that my side of the teeter totter is closer to the ground than his. Maybe there is a part of me that still hopes some day we will each come to a place where we can be together again. But I can't think about that right now. I have to think about the decision I made and why I made it and see it through; I truly believe it's the right thing for both of us. 

A deep breath, stress flowing out of my finger tips and out into the universe, and I know we will both be okay. Hopefully sooner than later, and hopefully still friends. Now, if only I had boot straps to pull myself up and go pack another two boxes. Guess I'll have to do it anyway. Damn.

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