Everything is different now, and I must be different too. – Lilith Saintcrow, Fire Watcher

 

It’s so disconcerting.  Disconcerting, in the most literal sense of the word.  You being gone has thrown me out of concert with myself.  My brain doesn’t seem to speak the same language to itself or anyone else, anymore.  The tribe is all in concert, and I can’t hear the drums.

I don’t miss you, not exactly.  I used to, because you were part of what made my day tick.  You were part of the hum and throb that set the tempo of my life.  Now you’re not, anymore, and you left long before I noticed you were slipping out the door.

Everything is different without you here.  It hurt a lot, for a little while.  Now it’s just different.  Teaching myself that I can’t send you things that made me think of you, because there’s no point.  Teaching myself not to miss talking to you.  Teaching myself not to think about you too much, because all that will do is make the empty space more noticeable.

It’s shaped just like you, you see.  No one else will fit.  Not yet.

But there will be a day when things are even more different than they are now.  That empty space will blur and fade, and either I’ll stop noticing it, or someone else will be able to fit it, or I’ll forget that it’s not supposed to be empty.  If I’m lucky, it will get smaller, so I don’t have to look around the empty place to see the world behind it.

Everything is different now, and I must be different, too.

If the world were otherwise, you’re the person I’d ask for help with this.  You’re the person I’d pull my heart into my mouth to ask for.

The world is not that way anymore.

This is the way the world is: you’re not here, and you can’t come back.  I’m not angry at you about it.  I just want to forget.

You, of all people, understand self-preservation.  So I will be different, and remember that I am a survivor, and that there’s nothing to feel very much about.

Remember when you met me, how I seemed so very self-contained?  We both forgot that person.  But I remember now.  I remember how to be myself unto myself, because I have to be, and because I want to be.

You will never ask me if I miss you.  I don’t know who I’m turning into, not exactly, so I don’t know what I would say if you could ask.  I know that you never asking will hurt if I think about it too hard, so it’s one of the things that is different now.

I can be different.

 

(Author’s note: I’m going to try to pull at least a few quotes a week and write something based on each quote, and whatever I am listening to at the time.  Fingers crossed that I can manage to do it more than twice without becoming mystically allergic to the habit.)