I just realized that I’ve been hunting for a sensual experience to calm my mind. Little did I know that actually I would only excite it further.

For days now I have sought solace in song and drink, food and friends. Searching for the perfect aural moment, the dulling of my nerves, a tickling tasty treat, or even the conscious comfort of conversation. I naively believed that these things would fill the emptiness that has eaten away at me since he left.

I have found all of these pleasures, and still nothing has stuck. Until tonight. I just took a walk in the cool evening with breeze kissing me between the fabric of my flowing black shirt. I saw manicured flowers and bought a translucent wine. I listened to my new collection of sultry women torch singers who have a knack for gravelly voices and silky sentiments.

But it wasn’t this 20 minutes that solved the puzzle. No, more sensations weren’t actually the missing piece. It was the total satisfaction of my sensual being, but it wasn’t enough.

The point is that all of this vanishes. The cold breeze stops blowing. The bottle gets emptied. But my awareness remains.

And it is my awareness of things present and things absent that lives inside my head and dulls these things. It is my throbbing memories of him that steal away the chance of peace.

I want the soul of something simple at home with me. Life is falling when we’re apart.

I love you. I miss you…