I would assume that time is supposed to make all things easier to sort out, to deal with, to confront. Along those same lines, I would garner that time, itself, is a mechanism of healing and growth.
The difficulty is, I don't have any desire to be healed or fostered- instead, I'd much rather remain broken, battered, and content with that parallel reality of happiness my life has sprung up. I fervently seek it out- I miss it already with all of my heart, mind, and soul.
There is no cry echoing louder within my being that screams for two beings to merely "be" as they once were, even if that parting seems mere moments ago.
I haven't really cried yet. And, I don't plan on doing so.
Productivity reigns supreme in reality, I suppose, and I will go on acting in such a way.
But, I miss you. I miss you infinitely.
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