waiting for a signal or a sound (where can you be found now, my love)

I have been so calm this last month. Far from thinking it a good sign, it worries me, but vaguely. Everything seems so very far away, as though all my petty problems were millions of miles away, endless light-seconds from me, and any reaction lagged.

I feel as though I am standing in the dimly lit halls of an aquarium, watching the occasional fish dart through murky water. If the glass—the glass that holds back everything— broke, there would be a deluge. Perhaps I would drown, or be terribly injured. Perhaps I would not.

But at least I would no longer have to wait.