The Absence of Your Presence
Photo by Enrico Mantegazza on Unsplash Dealing with the absence of your presence is like getting a paper cut. The wound is not large enough to warrant the use of a band-aid, like that one time I cut my finger accidentally with the kitchen knife. There is no substantial blood loss to show to other people as evidence of my pain. I might forget that it hurts for the most part of the day but whenever I wash my hands, it stings. I know I shouldn’t complain because it’s a small cut but sometimes, I have the urge to show it to someone just to hear them say, “Oh you poor thing!”. It may just be a tiny scratch on my skin but it still hurts and I need someone to acknowledge my pain. The absence of your presence has thrown a surprise party for me with my character flaws as guests of honor. So here I am, hosting all these unwanted guests in my tiny apartment. Mr. Anxiety likes to whisper to himself and no one wants to sit with him. Ms. Emotional is always making a scene, throwing temper tantrum