Lose Myself

"I love to lose myself for a good while,
Like animals in forests and the sea,
To sit and think on some abandoned isle,
And lure myself back home from far away,
Seducing myself to come back to me."
- Nietzsche
Before I knew it, over the period of two years, I had gradually, unknowingly, dropped out of my own life, and dropped into his. I didn’t see any of my friends anymore; It had become increasingly weird to explain my actions and absences to them. I had no time for them. I was too busy cleaning the window, mopping the floor, answering the phone, serving the customers, wiping the counter, re-stocking, packing, counting, buying coffee, clearing his ashtrays, which were always full. He smoked in the shop. It was so tucked away in a corner, and the building was so full of cooking fumes anyway that it didn’t make a difference. I would go home exhausted, smelling of fried food and cigarettes everyday. But happy. Or so I thought at the time.