wonderland

Remember the other night when you actually turned off your blackberry (gasp!) and said "work can wait,  i have been waiting for this all day" ?  You were like a kid with so many sweet questions.  It was the closest I have felt to you.   I drew a heart in the steam on the window when you left. Even more telling, i suppose, is that I windexed it off minutes later so that it would never reappear and you might accidentally see it.
I can't keep myself from wondering wether or not this will last another winter. It's already been almost a  year since you left puddles on the wood floor with your snowy boots that first time,  but I still have no idea what this is.  I can feel my hard earned indifference turning into a semblance of real feelings and I worry about swimming in those waters again.  I mean, some nights you ask the perfect questions, other times you barely say a word and I am left to fill all of that empty space with my own relentless inner dialogue.   It would be so much easier to write the beginning and middle if I knew the ending.


Your text last night was cold.  WORK PLANS CHANGED. I WONT BE ABLE TO SEE YOU TONIGHT.  no regret, no disappointment, no apologies,  nothing even remotely human about it, and it's frustrating how technology means I don't even get to hear your voice.
I took a hot bath, poured a french red, sat there soaking in salted water,  wondering if I could  fall in love with my single life all over again but I wasn't feeling anything but disappointment and desire and sadness about getting older.


ps.
(I should have never signed up for text message notification from Gilt.com.   every time I hear that beep I think it's you and it's really a killjoy).