Phil Gillies

Somewhere Else And Later

Two years ago on this day, I yawned out a tear of dual responsibility – I was sad and tired – as I laid on the couch in my living room trying to fall asleep. She had moved out a month ago, but I still hadn’t grown comfortable sleeping in the bedroom again. The space where the bed had been (it was hers) was empty, much like the reservoir of my patience for feeling held back by our love.