Throwing matchsticks at the sun

I had a really great weekend and a not so great this morning.

God, this weekend was so awesome! I went into Baltimore on Friday night and rampaged with Jon, Kevin and Scott. It was great, so great in fact that I ended up crashing up there. Good times equals not driving, not thinking, and just cutting loose. I felt like I was really falling back into the single life with relative ease. The transition was going smoothly. After all, it's been almost three weeks now, and if you want to count the tail end of the relationship where I could feel her gone already, it's been way longer than that.

Saturday was kinda botched from the start but everything was salvaged and went well. Corinne came down to my neck of the woods and her, Dennis and I kicked it up in Annapolis. I vaguely remember someone trying to paper, rock, scissors her away from us. The creep factor was high. It was a good night but I still don't like Tsunami. Sorry Dennis, I never will.

Sunday I went to the Renaissance Festival with all the guys. Drinking two dollar beers. Being subjected to the horrifying reality that most of the people who dress up should not be dressed in anything except a burlap bag. These aren't so much costumes as they are anatomy lessons. Some of these people have elbows one would mistake for knees in a blind taste test. The anomaly known only as the shelf-boob might be the most disgusting thing I've ever seen, next to watching Jon eat a turkey leg, at which I almost honked. Really... really.

So yeah, a good weekend. This morning, not so good.

I guess I'm still dealing with things. Part of me thinks she's gonna come walking through that door anytime now, but obviously she's not. I woke up two times during the night last night from dreams where her and I were still together. One was so vivid I actually reached over and felt the emptiness of the bed next to me. It's been three weeks since we've shared a bed but this morning it really hit home. She's gone, really, really gone. But in my dreams, we were happy and still, one.

This is Phantom Limb Syndrome where an amputee who has lost an arm or a leg can still feel his or her fingers or toes. Residual feeling still haunting them long after the use of that limb is gone. It still itches, it still tickles and even though it's not there physically, it still has feeling.

It's not ever completely gone and maybe it never will be.