5 Minutes

I sat staring into song after song, for at least five minutes. Nevermind the coffee maker's percolating or the fax machine's buzz. My phone lit up about three time. For five minutes or so, his face, out of nowhere, floated into my life. I am a slave of his thoughts. The world continues to turn around me. But sometimes my mind gets stuck at digesting what happened last spring. In procesing our demise, everything stops.

The sequence of events make perfect sense. The syntax of the story is sound and correct. The reasons behind each action are apporpriate. The brain approved and sanctioned each and every step to end this. But the heart, oh the heart, is weak.

Everyone sees is. We are both zombies to the world. Both heartless, emotionally irresponsible and reckless. Neither can manage our feelings. We both fumble at the mention of each other's name. I wrestle with the idea that you even miss me. I wrestle and I never win.

There is no solution. There is nothing, no Botox or physical therapy that will change the way my eyes angle down when thinking of you. There is no sponge to soak up my sulk. See, you may not see it. But I know it.

Five minutes later, life snaps its fingers and once again, I am at work. Coffee machines continue to percolate. Fax machines are still buzzing. And text messages and whatnot beg to be answered. Regadless of where I claim to be stuck in my heart, life is going on.