mistress...

Things are a bit stranger now since she's moved out of the building.  Things come and go, sure, but now there is just pockets of thoughts of memories, that are so small and fleeting, you're not sure of their actual existence.  But before, when she was still around, you had a purpose.  Though never quite certain the path, nor where uncertainty might take you, nor where you happened to find yourself, there was never even a question. Purpose. What was it, you may ask? Hell I'm not sure anyone, especially not myself, could tell you.  And for some reason that was okay.  I never nailed down a purpose, but I sure as shit had one.  And so I got out of bed every day.  And I never even thought it was possible to stay in bed.  And then she left.  Or rather, she was taken from me. And I must admit I took her for granted and so I lost her because of my unwillingness to appreciate what I'd had.  It's been told before, certainly, but I never used to understand . At least not fully.  I'm afraid I may never quite know what I've had and lost, and more importantly why, but I know this; whatever purpose I woke up for in those days, has disappeared. Vanished. Gone. And since she's been taken from me, I've been to the dark corners, and I've sampled the fare, and I've been to places I shall hope to never return to. And I've been to places I now understand their existence, whereas before I was even unaware of their existence.  So yes, some things make a little more sense than before, but mostly I am lost at sea, tossed to and fro among the wreckage of little half thoughts that perhaps once were, but there's just enough of the vessel gone so that, while its a possibility something was once whole there, there's not enough remaining to prove the existence of an actual functioning completion of anything.  Hardest part is she's not coming back.  And I have to figure out how to get along without her, and figure out how to come to terms with the fact that I'll never see her again. Both, I find, are excruciatingly hard.