If you walk away, I'll walk away. Just tell me which road I should take.

I haven't done my hair in 4 days. I think my coworkers were getting a bit concerned. I'm usually quaffed, painted, shining for all to see. But I've mostly stayed in bed as long as possible in the morning and haven't cared too much about my hair. Last week was dates galore. This week I've been saying no. So perhaps not caring about my hair is ok. Except most days I stay in my office with the door shut. I blame the cold, and gesture to the small space heater on my desk. Just keeping in the warmth, I lie. Just keeping out the world. The trouble with dating somebody and having other people know about it, is that they always ask about why it ended when it does. And the trouble with dating somebody like he was, is that I honestly just don't know. So I avoid their questions, concerned eyes, remarks on how I'm better off, advice on getting over it.  

I've survived much worse, I want to tell them. This is merely a blip compared to a divorce. Or an eating disorder. Or sexual assault. It's the tiniest of problems in comparison to last year's special concoction of horror. Knowing somebody for 2 months and then never speaking again is much less intense than knowing somebody your whole life and then waking up one day and you don't know them anymore. Perspective lends it's wisdom in situations like this. But I smile and nod and pretend to appreciate their words of wisdom, when really I already know: yes, of course I am just fine. 

But there are those moments when I'd like to text you. I'd like to think you're thinking of me, but I know you aren't. I hear a song and it reminds me of you. Or I stumble across something that I know you would laugh at. And I miss laughing with you. We laughed a lot. Does she make you laugh as much? I hope she does. Your laughter is like sunshine. And oh, my skies are grey.