During these two weeks, I talked to Kai twice. Once last Friday when he was flying from Hong Kong to Rio de Janeiro, and once this week.
Yesterday to be exact when he let m know he’d be back this weekend. He met his friends in Rio de Janeiro, but they couldn’t return at the same time.
Francisco only spent a couple of nights at Kai’s place in Manhattan two weeks ago, and Alejandro…?
I miss Alejandro.
The thing is, I didn’t have time to think about any of them.
When you get into that crazy kind of living, and life becomes an intense battle––not the bad kind, mind you, but still a battle––it’s hard to be consumed with anything other than how to survive another day.
I worked, went home––sometimes I napped on my way home or in the morning when my driver picked me up to take me to work––showered, worked out, checked my phone or the news, and usually collapsed into bed before ten o’clock.
The next day I woke at six in the morning and started all over.
Only recently, I've started to get the hang of it.
But…
That doesn’t mean I don’t miss them. And I miss them all.
Despite spending time with Kai that weekend. And despite my feelings for him, the passing of time helped things level out.
And I miss them equally. Or maybe I miss my life as it was with them. Or how I was with them.
Perhaps all of the above.