lost in reverie

The way you tear through me is like clockwork. Given that this year without you has undoubtedly been the best in my life I'm surprised that I can still react this way to external emotionally tugging stimuli. I don't know if it was the sequence or pattern of the way we danced around each other again this week that pulled at my muscle memory - only postponed by a week last time in me having a distraction in London/Cambridge. The culmination of which was my emotional tumble down the proverbial stairs in a hotel room in Le Havre. Completely alone and sequestered away from the rest of the world - and you followed me there, at least in thought.

I forgot that we saw Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind together at the Carlton. I downloaded it and watched it until now - when it ended. 6 am. How did we change places? Now I'm the one who stays up all night - and you sleep peacefully in your new bed. The framing of the intimacy in the film brought me back to our room and the smell of warm skin - that completely unique smell of us enmeshed and tangled together. And it's not that I want to be with you, that you doesn't exist anymore, or never did, and it's strange. How we're strangers now.