Because I'm having a difficult time remembering the days, the dates, what time is. Ever since hearing the news of Gilman, the days have stretched out so long that I feel as if a month has gone by since last Wednesday. As Bilbo says in The Fellowship of the Ring, "I feel thin, stretched, like too little butter over too much bread." Actually, I'm paraphrasing, but I'm sure you see the simile nonetheless.
In The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Kundera discusses the dichotomy between heaviness and lightness and, should they be set up in opposition, which would be considered the transcendental. Most would chose lightness, but in this amazing novel, he constantly poses the question of whether this should be the immediate response or suggestion. Gilman's passing floats through that question. I cannot decide whether this world is now heavier or lighter without him. Life feels heavier, but I feel lighter knowing he is not here anymore. Like when you press your hands against a door jamb for some time and they float up involuntarily upon release. It is a surreal, in-wonderland yearning for him to come back.
So, today is Wednesday. But in my mind, it is just another morning when even happy songs make me sad.
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