The subtle feeling that some thing in your life is missing and the scarier feeling that everything still carries on.
It's not the change itself. it's not the new apartment or the new city, the new people who are still trying me out/on. it's how easy it's been. i mean, it's been hard, devastating at times, but it's the ease with which i've found myself slipping into something new, distracting myself, ignoring things, and feeling like if i continue to ignore them long enough, they will just slip away into the suppressible mist of "it was a long time ago."
The why kneels down to the 'it is, now'.
It's the odd relationship where I can ask myself please forget and I answer myself as you wish with a menacing smile. Who is the person answering? Not the "me" writing this. Who is the crazy woman inside my head?
That you could continue on the path, "living" as in surviving, and walk right by the big missing thing. We are taught that if something important is missing you will have a gut feeling to go out and get it or find it or fix it. Your intuition will save you, they say. Trust your gut.
But there is a way of living where you don't notice absence. Where, like with religion, you can only define the largest forces by only their shadows edge, or you could choose life inside the shadow. Change, tragedy, a shattering... it proves the lurking possibility for the insidious trajectory which has a mind of its own.
The way I was once from somewhere and now belong only to myself.