Razzamatazz

I feel a little burned by you, scorned, with only the hint of an embarrassed gaze in my direction. Oh, but you’re bored with me, I understand, really I do. I was bored with me for the longest time and I know that I’ve become so very boring with it. Once though, I wasn’t, to you at least. It seemed that way anyway. Probably I was a novelty, that is a theme I’ve noticed and must watch out for, but novelty wears off so quickly. Maybe for you it lasted a little longer. No longer though. Just beyond my fingertips I can feel you gone.

For the last two nights I’ve dreamed about you, well, you and your mother. Strange to dream about mothers that you’ve never met but, well, there it is. Strange to dream in general I suppose, when it is so real, so lucid, and such a disturbance upon waking. Dreams, for some reason, always remind me of how little I know people despite what I may think. They hammer home the point though. In know it, I really know it, I’m just not happy about it.

The sense of loss is a funny one, isn’t it? How can you feel ‘gone’? Oh and I can feel gone, it’s gone and gone and has left a nothing behind. The nothing. Oh yes, I suddenly understand that. Funny, I’ve never connected those dots before.