By Sri Nath Kurup | February 14, 2024
Photo Credit: mariya_m on Pixabay
I’m fine.
No, I wake up fine.
I’m not hidden away from the light’s shine.
I don’t listen to the birdsong and wonder why I have to wake up to music that isn’t the thump of
your heart, the hum of your breath in your chest, or your morning rasp.
I don’t cower from the rising sun and turn in my bed, wrapping my blanket around me and
wondering why I use an eiderdown substitute for your arms, which around my chest once had a
firm and warm clasp.
No, I eat fine.
Not having to share my food when I dine.
I don’t wonder who I’ll be cooking for,
Worry I made two servings instead of one,
Or yearn to lean across the table and spoon-feed you.
I don’t look up across the table and wonder how the seat opposite is empty, think to myself it’s
awfully quiet during meals, miss the sound of giggles and chortles and a table set for two.
No, I walk alone fine,
Without slowing pace to tow the line.
I don’t walk through rainy days and find it too cold for my right hand to be out, never think my
pocket too spacious compared to your hand, perfectly shaped for mine to rest in.
I don’t want to slow down from my fast-paced life to talk nonchalantly about nothing and nobody for hours at a time, to forget where I’m going or what I had in mind just so I can go where I’m going with a grin.
No, I sleep fine,
Without another’s comfort on my mind.
I don’t think about you when the moon’s out, asking if you might be looking out at it too, or see
fireflies light up at night and want to catch them in our own little forest.
I don’t wish to close my eyes for the night just to see you again, and tell myself each time is the
last, or pray that one day my heart as well as my mind can find rest.
No, I’m fine.
I’m alright.
I’m fine.