Tonight

As I was leaving class, walking through the dark parking lot with the cold wind stingy my face, I felt drained and exhausted, ready to strip down naked and curl up in a warm bed. But I also felt overwhelmingly happy -- blissful and expectant, like the walk to my car was the best thing I had done all day long and there was something wonderful waiting for me there. And then, after I turned the key and started to drive away, I realized the reason for my excitement. For the past year that long, cold, dark walk has been the last hard thing I had to do in the day. My brain was conditioned. I knew that once I was done with that walk, it was only a few minutes drive home and into the arms of my lover. I knew that he would kiss me and hold me tightly as I drifted off to sleep.

And then I remembered that I couldn't go back to that home. That I had to turn the car around and drive 30 minutes in the opposite direction. That he wasn't waiting for me. That I no longer get to see him at the end of the long day.

And then I started to cry.