*Originally written 12/30/14*
I arrived at a revelation last night that had been fairly obvious to me all along but I could never think of a contextual metaphor. It hit me last night while staring at the ceiling and wishing it was made of glass. Jason was the Sun and I was just a planet orbiting around him. He became my source of energy and light from the day I met him. Without him I had no sense of a center. His two-week work trips, which felt like an eternity at the time, always left me listless and depressed. But I knew eventually the Sun would return on a United flight (most likely delayed in Newark) and life would go back to normal, at least until his next trip. We all know what will happen when the Sun starts to die in 5 billions years from now. All life will end.
I do recall an existence before Jason, but I happily left it behind like a snake shedding its skin; a natural process necessary for growth. This new change doesn’t feel natural at all…it is more like an eviction. I am once again listless and unenthused but this time there is no end in sight. No counting down of days until he returns or staying up late so he can Facetime me from Shangai. The anger that was absent at first has surfaced with a vengeance but there is no place to direct it.