I whisper your name (ayradyss) wrote,
I whisper your name
ayradyss

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In London-town...

It was foggy, this morning, as I drove through the pre-dawn darkness from home to this empty and silent apartment where I have nothing to keep me. It was foggy. I left with the usual window of extra time and the usual lack of delays that comes from commuting at 4:45 AM, and I arrived precisely at the time I was slated to arrive. I have thirty minutes before the earliest I could possibly need to leave to be at $hospital. This is precious time, time I could be using to do the dishes I left over the weekend, time I could spend trying to find the e-mail addresses of the doctors I plan to seek out to write the letters of recommendation I should have already asked them to write.

I spent the first five minutes of it sitting on the end of a queen-sized bed, staring into the trifold mirror on the back of the dresser, looking at the face of a stranger.

I am seized by early-morning silence, by the fog and mist that glowed golden and red and swirled around my view at eighty miles an hour down the highway at five-thirty AM. I am wiped clean, empty of emotion, and my cup is filling slowly with loneliness. I stayed the night. I said over and over again, last night, as the hour at which I could have returned here to sleep approached and passed, that I should have come back here. The truth, O Best Beloved, was that I was afraid to come back for just this reason: there was silence around me, as I turned off my book-on-tape and got out of my car and entered my quiet apartment. I had time to think.

I spent most of Saturday and Sunday, almost all of Saturday and Sunday, playing World of Warcraft and I wish I had done something else, but it was good to have time to not-think. I will spend today catching up on yesterday's affaires for my patients, admitting two more (if I get an admission), and trying to keep busy.
Busybusybusy. Because, you see, it is the silence and the aloneness and the emptiness that swallows me whole. And I am alone, here, so terribly alone that at this moment in the post-dawn moments I am contemplating driving back to Fort Wayne in the evening, just to find my Angel and have him hold me.

These days are long, O Best Beloved. So very very long. And we are beginning to discuss in all seriousness how the next three years will proceed.
I have come to realize that the most important thing for me is the ability to go home at night.
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