“The season is calling and your pictures are falling down”

I think I’m numb. The fall to the floor, gut wrenching, aspects of love are not part of my current relationship. Last night, in the dark glow of the television, I watched as Minnie Driver collapsed in her Harvard dorm room while Matt Damon said he didn’t love her. I used to be this way, I would lay listless as tears streamed down my face. I would cower in the shower, the hot water and hot tears falling together, inseparable. But now I make dinner, I do the dishes, I sweep the floor. He has a beer, plays Halo, laughs.

I am numb. I look at him with perplexity. How did we get here? Is this suburbia or just acquiescence? Because it is terribly senseless. I wish to feel again, I wish to fall on my knees and cry to the stars for answers again. I know I’ve fallen to the ground and tried to drown in my own tears for him before so why has my passionate captivation subsided for domestication?

My dreams hold no answers only hours of distraction.