:: sick ::

As convenient as it is to spend every waking moment with David, I need to create space. I was just thinking about being apart, about the intense longing that constructs and the monuments we make of being Away.

But I haven't been away at all. Apart from a few weekend trips -- blissful separations -- it has been all David, all day. I think I'm love-sick, but in the worst kind of way. I'm all sticky and drenched and feeling ridiculously empty. Which makes everything else feel awful too. It's like clouds covering over the sun. One minute I'm fine, the next it's a storm I'm too afraid to put a name to. I'm thinking thoughts no bride-to-be ought to, and not the naughty kind, the turning and running kind. I start to feel trapped, though I know well that I'm not. And I feel lost, swamped in things To Do, but none of it matters if the things I feel are all wrong. I'm wrecked.

And he, careful, constant Heart, wants to repair me with scripture, or with the power we hold to make the right choices. Well, the only best decision I could have made today would've been to find a little breathing room. It's too late now; I'm suffocated.

And the worst part is, it hurts David to see it. I wish I could spare him of that -- I do. (I love you, David.)


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