I woke up on the couch again. I've been sleeping there each night that he's out of town without cell signal. Not that he even lives with me. But sleeping in my own bed still feels lonely if there aren't texts from him to look forward to. No matter how many new friends I make, I can't fill the empty spot. And it's okay. "Distance" makes the heart grow "fonder", but all I can hope is that it'll make the heart grow. So much on our minds. Choices to make and places to go and work to be done. And the desire to just drop it all for a week and be together is always there. Patience, I say, there will be a week for that. So I will wait. As much as it hurts for the present, it's worth it.
I got up off the couch once I'd written him a good morning text. I was playing some of my old music and getting lost in the atmospheric melodies, and just pouring water into the coffee machine instead of waiting for the Brita pitcher to filter it, and then use that, was my method for breaking through the anxiety barrier today. From there, coffee was followed by a desire for food (because coffee alone is just asking for a stomachache) so I thought of my pancake mix. Here goes. I'm not measuring this out, my measuring cups are all in the ***** dishes pile. I've washed a bunch of glasses and this one will fit enough pancake batter for two or three small flapjacks. Here I go.
journal they look like crepes and not pancakes. but it's alright.