i've been sitting with my back to the window for so long now, i can actually feel the outline of the shadow of the plant behind me, on my back. the sun has been beating down both yesterday and today. thankfully. it's been so cold these last weeks my muscles are all constantly tight, waiting for the next cold front.

i've been reading this book. this pretty anonymous book with painfully bland characters and lackluster language, and if it wasn't centered around the concept of loving and leaving i probably would have put it down just pages into it, but here i am - nose between the pages, caught between rooting for the betrayed ex husband and wondering if by the end of this year, i will hate myself or him. it's funny how even though i am genuinely happy, tragic love stories are the only ones that hit close to home. letting go of hope was by far the hardest part - by now i have gotten used to thinking about my future with him waiting on the sidelines, as a simple stand-in. because surely, no one can carry this weight for too long.

still, he never even blinks before placing a goodbye kiss on my lips - the very same lips he spends every waking hour pretending he doesn't love. i'd never hate him for it, but at times i wonder how he doesn't hate himself. but he doesn't blink and i.. i don't even open my eyes. anything to keep the rain away.

they say that good things come to those who wait, and i can't help but wonder how much the betrayal must sting in the seconds before the bomb detonates above our heads - the first thing you hear being the shatter of glass, helping you ignore how everything else shatters just seconds later. i've never had the heart to tell him, but when he tried to comfort me by telling me i have a heart of gold and that some day, it will pay off he almost broke my heart. imagine my surprise when i saw that the windows were still intact.