Winter Is Here

Winter is here, cold and rainy.

Somehow, I felt like the dreary weather followed me, close and near.

The wind was crisp, like a clean draft.

The wetness fell steadily, leaving puddles in its path.

“I’m fine” or “I’m okay” are not the words that I would use.

A couple months on, I breathe a little more, riding the painful waves that echo, hollow in its core.

The timer has stopped. Easier? Not.

Life just moved forward, carrying the weight like a tightened knot.

In the quietest of times, as my mind slows,

The questions I had asked, resurface, intwined with more unresolved.

How quick it was to take back what had been said and vowed, a simple call and typed up text.

How easy it was to say we’re done, with countless plans and determined dreams suddenly foregone.

How cruel it was to call us friends, only to turn back and cut us off, unraveling every memory to finish it off.

How lucky it must be to walk back into life, like nothing had been lost, no regrets to be had.

How fortunate it was to feel none of this grief, of this darkened cavern, this loss of no reprieve.

How sad it is to pretend like we never were, how every word that had been said, so decidely erased.

Most of all, how lucky it was to flip a switch, to know none of this despair, of picking up the pieces of what was once there.

To know nothing of what it’s like to be left in discard, of being worth less, an empty card.