There
is only me and the sound of snow falling.
The world has been swallowed by the empty silence that only comes after
the denizens of the night have gone to bed and those of the day have yet to
awaken. I close my eyes and breathe in
the sharp cold air. I breathe in the
emptiness and the snow. These are the
moments I treasure the most. In them I
can let myself drift apart filling the open space of the night sky. I can feel every flake as though it were a
piece of me. There is comfort in
falling, softly, again and again.
Sometimes I wonder why I ever left.
The
sound of my phone ringing brings me back to the window. I don’t feel whole. Instead I feel like a hundred thousand pieces
all slammed together in a single being.
Every broken part of me is like a jagged edge trying to escape my body as though I’m too much shoved into something too small.
This
is who you are now, I tell myself. This is what you wanted. This is nothing like what I wanted, but
then they always say to be careful what you wish for.
“Hello?” My voice cracks like it hasn’t been used in
years…sounds like someone else, someone far away.
“No, that’s fine. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I hear
myself saying.
The sky has begun to change into a
soft bruised purple that comes with the morning and I can hear the birds
beginning their chorus. The snow has
stopped. For a moment I think about
taking a coat but in truth the cold doesn’t bother me. Carefully I tuck the memory of this morning
away so that it will be there when I need it.
Because I will need it. And I can
hope that it won’t be too long before there is only me again, and the sound of
snow falling.
