… to do lists?

It’s still dark outside. The early morning smells come through the open window, and I sitting in my bed with a cover only and a cup of coffee push my thoughts outside into the fresh, clean air of the approaching day. As the words of great writers lay littered around the room, remnants from a weekend filled with poor attempts to regain creativity I woke up to find that you are gone. Where you are, or how long you will be gone and even whom you are going to see are a mystery to me.

In the semi-darkness of the room Peritas, a Great Dane stirs at the foot of the bed. She yawns and stretches and gets comfortable again on the carpet. I roll over too and find comfort in the immortal words of poets both living and dead, who have published their wisdom of love and friendship. The book is old and in the margins I have transcribed initials and dates of friends, lovers and familiar’s past as the words remind me of milestones towards today. I stretch, and yawn and will myself to get out of bed and start today.

I’ve started making lists again – a soft-start of self-imposed self-discipline so that I work towards small, inconceivable goals to get through the days. In starting small I can safely navigate towards the bigger, more important ones. Like yesterday, in the hot spring sun I stood washing the dogs, before washing my car and after going for a bike ride out in the fields. Every morning going forward I will sit and write out what I remember needs doing. And do it before going to bed so that, in seeing achievement I become it.

But I wake up to find you gone. And in that realisation I smile knowing that some part of me is still travelling with you. Where you are going, or how long you will be gone or even who you are seeing is a mystery. But I still have a part of you, and you have a part of me. I draw the curtains back and look forward to a new day. I’ve started writing again and though most of it seems like nonsense, pretty soon it will stop being nonsense and just be the words that have escaped me since I’ve met you.

Be safe, my friend on your journey into the unknown, because in the distance between the darkness and the light, that is when we find ourselves.


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