Numb

I’m numb. This below-zero weather has brought with it more than just the plummeted temperatures of the season, but also the deadness of a failed love affair. Love has bitten me hard and left its venom deep – and I can’t move against its sting.

Early Christmas Morning

I wake up Christmas morning, alone. There is no sadness, just a silence breathing in every room of my tiny apartment. The lights on the tree and those emanating from the potpourri jar I made for my sister, throw a warm glow through the living room that seems to wrap around me like a blanket. It’s 4 o’clock. Outside the roads are empty; the traffic lights signal for no one. Nothing is stirring for miles around, and I feel as if I am the only one left alive.

All I wanted for Christmas this year was to have Daniel here. I wanted to wake up with his arms around me and hear him tell me that he loves me. But as wishing can’t close a 5,000-mile gap between bodies, I have settled for the quiet stillness of solitude.

Now, there’s a lump in the pit of my stomach, as I think about how quickly we have moved (once again) into this end-of-the-year period, when solitude forces us to reflect back on the closing year and look ahead to the future. Sometimes all it seems to do is promise more of the same solitude, more of the same empty wishing for the next Christmas – but somehow this year, I don’t think so…