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  • You keep following me around everywhere. I have become so solitaire, twenty-five sleeping in my childhood twin sized bed. The old house here is made out of cement and with the subzero temperatures the past few days I have felt the cold through the walls like your breath on my neck. There is something I painstakingly need to get off my chest…kind of brings tears to my eyes, really. But, since we left each other I have not spent a single night in my bed or in another’s bed with any person. With it being so cold lately I so badly miss sleeping with you. I wonder where you sleep now and I feel oblivious to it completely. I come home from work, exhausted between the awful New England commute through the snow covered roads and talking to strangers about books and still lay awake until the sun comes through the shades considering which positions you could be sleeping in and how it all used to be.
    Last Saturday I was off and went for a drive near the train station, watching the cold steel tracks nestle alongside the roads I took; cables and ocean. I drifted in memories through the winter wind and drove to a place in Old Saybrook and although it was around ten degrees and damp, I parked my car and walked alongside a marsh road and thought of you. I took pictures, those of which the quality were all poor. Too dismal and cold a winter day, but you followed me over a bridge where white swans sat atop the ice, idling and waiting for warmth. I took the cold winds to my face; I tightly held my knit hat to my head and pushed myself against the bitter salty breeze among a dense fog. The bridge was not heavily traveled. It was a space of summer homes vacated while families settled further north of the coast. The scenery looked so familiar to so many places I went and saw, and lived, with you. You loom over my shoulder and it has become constant. If only there was a way you would get to me. Tonight it is just as cold as last, but tomorrow is forecasted to have sun and warmth during daylight and I may go for that drive again and wonder where you are.
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