On stuffing it and pretending everything is fine

Perhaps it is so much easier to not talk about it. Stuff it, so that you'll only focus on drawing your next breath. Suppress the pain, the angst, the delirium that would possibly ensue if you just went there. And faced those feelings head-on. The anguish and the unspeakable pain, the tears flowing down your cheeks. It's been almost six weeks now since I've said goodbye to my life, my sweet paradise, my Hawaii. Six weeks of telling myself that I can do this. Transplanting to a completely new life, one of winters, of rainy days and cold, windy mornings. Oh how i yearn for those hot sands caressing my ankles, or the crashing wave, the sweet scent of plumeria. Some days are better than others. Today is not one of those days. Saying goodbye has never been something I have done with ease.
Being a robot is also something I'm not good at. And since I've moved here I've become dead and lifeless. I've left behind my revival. The orange ball of the setting sun so vivid in my mind...to touch, to reach, if only I could...