Is it finished yet?

I keep thinking this is the end,
the last time, no more, it's finished -
I'm angry when I think that,
I tell myself, I can't go on.

I'll make plans,
my rational brain takes charge.
How will I organise my time
now I am one, not two?

Mornings uncluttered,
days busy with projects,
evenings, my own ...

I'll visit old friends here and there
Berlin, Brussels, Bristol
Indonesia, India, Africa.
I'll be free, free.

Stop, stop! Rewind rewind!
What about the empty rooms?
The long quiet days?
Cooking alone on dark winter nights?

What about the daily chit chat
and lack of to and fro?
No more intimate moments,
and laughing together?

And so my mind see saws
up and down, like two old men
in an endless argument, never agreeing.

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