Lazarus Man. Benedict Smith Edition

I've rewritten this post 3 or 4 times.
This is highly atypical for me. My novel was a work of considerable drafting and revision.
However, blogging is my version of twitter.
The posts are virtually always stream of consciousness composed.
Try as I might, I just can't get this post to feel or articulate......I don't know.
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I'm hungover.
Semi-high.
My wife is telling me that we should separate.

I take a figurative breath and I feel empty.
I concentrate. I search for a register of emotion.
Nothing.
It is....not unexpected.
Yet....I do not know what if any emotion I feel.
We head home and I waste time on my computer.

I do the only thing I can in such an instance: decide where I will drink tonight and go listen to She Wants Revenge.

I look up.
Benedict Smith has stepped into the light. I feel his presence wash over me.
There is a tempered and measured gait to his stride once overshadowed by impulsiveness and mania.
He has patiently waited and bided his time.
He always knew this would happen.
He took a hiatus and rested.

I know that red flags and long nights are coming my way.
I wonder as I look at the window of my apartment.
I'm a man apart again.
He always knew this would happen.

This is what you are.
This is what you were always going to become.
Good luck and happy hunting.

    - Yrs. in Christ