different

Something feels different and i don't like it ---

i don't like that the sameness feels different.

i don't like that i know that the sameness feels different, 

different than the actual different which is me shoving you out of a chair in the middle of the night, spinning around, tripping over stuff we dropped wherever we felt with a pillow draped over my head while wondering how horses sleep that way. 

It's different than hearing you read things i adore that make me smile weirdly like every character of so many books that i hate, hanging onto every syllable that you let slip forth from wherever it is you get those words. 

This difference hurts because it's not sameness no matter how much i want it to fit the label of that weird clump of letters, because i'm too damn scared to see if it will, so i'll just let it exist as it has and hope that when i'm ready to peel that sticker it'll stick.