Showers

She asks me why I take such long showers.

Sarcastically, I tell her I enjoy wasting water.

I do not tell her that the real reason is that I love wasting my time and energy on anything other than the thought of the distance that is forming between her and me and him and her. The distance that is forming while love is not.

I do not tell her that I let the water cleanse me of not only the dirt from the day but the dirt that has tried so hard to soil my happiness.

I will not let it.

I let the rain from the faucet pour on and around me until the steam has blocked out any other thought of pain.

I let let the scent of rosemary and lavender shampoo distract me from the scent of salt from the tears on my pillow.

I let the warmth of the room soothe me from the tension built up from that day. The tension from the wedding rings left on the table instead of the fingers of two beings who used to be in love. The tension from the slamming doors that seems to vibrate through the house and through my bones. The tension of my muscles that try to absorb the shock of the vibrations and the shock of reality.

I don’t take long showers to waste water.

I take long showers so I can forget.

So I can imagine what it’d be like if the water filled my lungs and let me pause for a while.

So I can relax and release and relive happy memories before the flood of sadness filled all the rooms in this house that once was a home.

I take long showers to feel again.