Thoughts on finishing one book and moving on to the next…
It’s not me, it’s you; it’s time to call it a day.
At the edge of one relationship and not quite ready for the next,
Caught on the cusp of sadness and anticipation.
Wistfully remembering the little details which unfolded on the pages,
Yet glancing guiltily over to the other side of the bed,
The next adventure winking, waiting to whisk me away.
Tenatatively, I’m letting go of the familiar script.
The intoxication, the polluting tendrils of a fiction which blurred reality,
Mirrored, distorted and reimagined chapters of my own life story.
I’m losing a friend, breaking things off with a lover,
Time has run its course and we push forward.
There are so many other possibilities waiting to tempt me.
Will the next one live up to the last?