• Us,  Words

    Object Permanence

    He’s gone again. It was a Friday morning full of leaving. No matter how hard I try it always fore-shadows the day. I am saying good-bye before I need to, protecting myself from the pain and beginning to wrap myself up in don’t cares and see you soons that sound as hollow as they feel. This time was different. I was monitoring myself, checking in with how I really felt rather than my habitual ways of dealing with separation. The old wounds were still there, I could feel the scar tissue itching. My old habits were waiting in the wings for their cue but centre stage was a clarity of…