the beekeeper.

one week anniversary.

it's been a week.
it's been 7 days.
it's been at least 168 hours,
at least 10,080 minutes,
at least 604,800 seconds
without you.

it's awfully funny, though,
which is odd to say considering the melancholic topic,
but i thought i would have cried by now.
i thought the fibers of my pillows and the meat inside my aching fingers
would be soaked to the core,
but here i am:
bone dry.

i wouldn't be surprised if it was a repeat of him
just like i didn't want it to be.
after he parted ways,
i was deboned and skinned,
leaving a bloody sack of meat freezing in the middle of january.
i was empty.
i felt nothing.

what a repetitive cycle.
i'm a shell;
i'm a clean jar.
but eventually shells disintegrate,
and jars break.

it happened with him.
such a swift movement of emotions.
nothing for days,
nothing for weeks,
and in one fatal swoop it came in like a tidal wave,
and the ocean water wrecked me with agony and suffering.

how long will it take this time?
another week?
a couple more days?
a couple more hours?
a month?

who knows,
but i do know one thing.
it will happen,
and it will more than likely happen soon
because it's already been a week.