Kicking and screamingly (or at least whiningly) giving up on the vow that we will be the next John Lennon and Yoko Ono and never spend a night apart.
Trying to re-create, tonight, a certain kind of night that I used to have often, pre-Z. A night with just me alone in my shadowy apartment, candles lit, Over the Rhine playing something melancholy, cheese melted over bread, and a movie watched all cuddled up in a big soft chair. I was lonely, those nights, but I loved them too. It was a beautiful, aware, purposeful lonely, probably better called solitude. I'm alone tonight. I suppose it's my choice whether tonight will end in beautiful solitude or just plain old loneliness.