(Today’s entry was easy.  That’s interesting because I walked through a door from post experience with no hesitation.l, and it does not apply to my current situation.  Michael McDonald is amazing.  Day 145…)

I know I could turn, blink, and you’d be gone.  So I must be prepared, any time, to carry on.  But minute by minute, I’ll be holding on…

Minute one.
Hope still sounds eternal.
Things change
Sometimes, for the better
But sometimes changing back is best

Minute three.
My heart skipped a beat
It finally realized it no longer has yours to keep rhythm
Dancing alone is…awkward

Minute eight.
Doubt hovers with “I told you so” on its breath
Like a hypocritical surgeon general
The second-hand smoke is enough to kill me
Though he once only made me doubt the permanence of your absence

Minute twenty-one.
Nervousness has reached adulthood.
The grip on whatever sanity your voice brought is loosening
I selfishly want to call you
And hope you at least customized your voicemail
The mundane sounds so beautiful when you say it
I want to relay a message
In between heartbeats.

Minute forty.
Feels like days and nights in wilderness
Tempted by devils to test the holy you still possess in my spirit.
Gradually, the aura of Heaven has dimmed
And only a glimpse of God remains in visions of you
That’s still enough divine inspiration

Minute ninety-six.
Other measures of time are as insignificant as who I am to you.
Disappearing isn’t magic
The only way you trick me now is if you came back.

Minute whenever.
Where is the prestige?
The grandiose ta-da
I’m waiting
My heart matches the rhythm of my tapping foot
Dancing alone is awkward
Reaching for a partner that isn’t there
Imagining a love that isn’t there
You’re going to need someone
It’s coming.

Any minute now.