And then there was one.

Hello, me again. All revved up to start my regular outflow of writing, only to smash up against a wall of my own busyness immediately following said revved-up-ness. But here's the new bit: In one small, fifteen-minute phone call, the cushion of comfort and security that I have been living in, i.e. love, vanished all away and left me alone and naked on my bed, staring out the window as the wind whipped the rain against the pond. Done. Adrift and single again, when I thought I would never be single again. I know, it is for a purpose and it's not forever, necessarily, and it's all for the best, really, we both need time and space and thinking and independence. He needs it. I need him to have it. I can only know for sure if I let him go for sure, and then see if he ever comes back. But for now I am waiting, and I am single, and I am so despondant I can't even cry. I just walk around dazed, wondering why I feel like I'm on pause while the rest of the world is on fast-forward. No more summer plans, no dates and no phone calls and no August spent on the island in Canada and no concerts and no hot July love. Nothing but empty empty fucking inboxes and silent cellphone and weekends to spend thinking up something else to do. Wondering what he has thought up to do. I am so terrified. I can't even voice my own fears. I am afraid that speaking them will cause them to happen. He is my best friend, and my worst enemy. And then there was one, and I am the one.