There's No Home For Me Here

I've decided. Its a process that none of us are exempt from.

Fear, void, meaning.

You can't avoid it, but there are various coping mechanisms. Its a storm you weather until you feel the worst of it is over. But there are always moments, skirmishes of the heart, relapses.

When you think its passes, and suddenly you find yourself sitting on a bus, chatting away together easy as can be before the realization finds you. It creeps up behind you and slits your throat, and when it does that all you manage to do is gasp.

"We're not in love anymore. Right"
Because for that respite it had been natural and it had felt good to forget.