i can never recall a morning where i look at the time and am satisfied with the blinking numbers on my screaming alarm clock.the sun, still waking up itself, stretches out it's long, golden arms above my window pane. birds mock me to get out of bed.
the other side of my bed is cold. my fingers stretch out over the rippled material of my mattress to find nothing. always nothing. silence. no good mornings or exchange of words.my morning coffee can never come soon enough into my hands.
a smile from the other side would be nice. a gentle touch across my shoulder. reassurance that everything is going to be okay, because we have each other. is it possible to miss someone you have never met? how is it that i crave ocean sunsets, and salty air when i have never seen nor tasted them? how do i know i want love if i've never felt it? why do i want someone to take hold of my heart and squeeze it? where does that come from?
after finally waking up i take a shower and scrub all of the night away, the make up, the scent of beauty from my body. i put on a thick, burly sweater, my skinny jeans, and converse. and begin to brave the day away...alone. i know it will repeat in the morning--these feelings of anxiety and want. i sometimes would rather feel nothing at all.