summer blues

I once told someone that missing him hits me in waves, sometimes it's the soft roll and then the gentle ebb of the wave, the continuity of the action, that defines it's similarity. The longing, like the waves that always hit the shore then roll away, has been a constant disposition that I have learned to deal with albiet with resignation and I have been able to manage to go through the motions of a routinary existence. That sounds waaayyy too dramatic and I don't want you to think that my everyday reality depends solely on a person or is even dependent on anything, because it's not. It's not as if my life is hanging on every plan he makes, every exchange of word we have, because it doesn't. It's just that with him, there are more than seven colors in a rainbow.

Today however, I feel as though a tsunami has hit me and I'm just reverberating with the missing... and there is not much to do but wait for the waters to recede... and it's the waiting, the in between moments that get to me...