Every day at work, I disassociate. I don't mean to, but it's something I've developed to help deal with the constant onslaught of verbal abuse. As I stand there, with elevator music playing within my mind, everything becomes drowned out as my mind begins to drift.
Sometimes, it drifts to good things. Like when I get home, after my ten hour shift, I'll give my kitties so many kisses. Other times, my mind decides to go into excruciating detail of all the times I've personally messed up.
Most of the time, however, my thoughts lead me home. My ears are filled with his adorable giggles, music to my soul. The intoxicating smell of incense smoke overwhelming my senses. It's wild orchid, his favorite. And sometimes I swear— I SWEAR I can hear the last time you bestowed an 'I love you' upon me. I should have said it more. Should have. Should have. Should have.
All of this hidden behind a fake smile and, "Good morning! You found everything okay?" And I pray they can't see the way my hands tremble. Then I go to my house. I can't say home because that's what he is, what he was. I know he won't be there after my ten hour day, that he can't be there. And it ruins me. It ruins me in the worse way possible.
I miss you. The days are long, but I look forward to when you'll come to take me home with you again.
I wrote this once and it disappeared on me, I almost couldn't write it again. Thank you for listening.
