Without Your Rhythm I’ve tried every shape a day can take alone, then crowded with friends, then family, then quiet again, circling back to the same unsteady beat. No one gives you your rhythm. But dancing with someone you chose completely, and losing that dance, guts you all the same. Fault or no fault, it guts you the same. They say feeling is vast, endless, but I doubt I’ll touch even a fraction of it this time. I just miss you. Call it mawkish. Call it too much. I’ll love you anyway, quietly, while you keep your distance like a punishment I’m still serving. That’s alright. The dance isn’t over. My head says otherwise, but my heart won’t hear it. My heart still wants to fall asleep beside you and wake up the same way, to cook the dinner, to wait by the door, to make plans just to cancel them because staying in with you was always the better plan. I want that back. And tonight, for the first time, I don’t know how to carry the wanting.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​