As I sit on my bed looking out the window I can only see the constant stream of rain coming down. The bark on the trees is darkened and the green moss stands out -- in stark contrast -- to the darkness of the shadows beyond it.
I almost wish it were snow. We have already been turned white once this winter, and so soon I long for the snow to fall again. There is no particular reason for this want, but to feel the world slow to a stand still as people try and take in to account that the snow on the roads is slowing everything down. Right now, my life feels as though it is hurtling through time at a million miles a minute. There is so much going on and the headaches are so bad lately that I am beginning to be entirely too stressed out by the season I used to so love and adore. Granted, Fall, is my favorite seasons, the way the trees turn colors and then leaves blow gradually to the ground. But fall always falls short lately, of the beautiful season it is farther up north. How I miss the season at Gettysburg, where the trees took ages to turn their colors and their leaves stayed happily and colorful in the trees for weeks on end. So what does it mean to have this fall apart the way it has. Gettysburg felt like the season was frozen in time for weeks on end. It was flawlessly beautiful and I miss wandering through the slowly falling leaves and sitting outside at night listening to them blow along the path ways.
Lately, it has been just rain. Or ice, which thanks to my new tires is much easier to drive in. But, it seems that fall faded away to the brown decay of dead leaves way too fast this year. I do not envy people without seasons, on the coast of CA for instance, but at the same time, I long to be father North where things take time to happen in this season, and where they are most certainly more prepared for the snow and ice which so soon follow fall.
I used to love the winter. But that too has faded into the past. Now it is a cold and dreary seasons, a single season perhaps. Where everything falls to the wayside because you are alone. It is the cold season, where someone else in your bed is the best thing at night, and holding hands outside is the easiest way for your hands to stay warm. It is a time when you see friends and family, perhaps his, not just your own. It is a time for twos. A time which leads into the new year, and lets face it, being alone on new years just sucks. I have a running tally of 23 years single on New Years, and I have a feeling it is going to soon be 24. It is odd to me, that this season has taken such a turn from what it used to be. It was once a time for family, and now it is a time for the future. You see family, yes, but you spend your time trying to figure out the gift for the person you care about most. Well. I won't have to do that this year. And every year past I've never had that simple problem. *shrugs*
What makes this season worse is that now it blends all the way through the season and into the dreaded holiday of every single person, National single's awareness day. Valentines day for all of those people who are so happily in love that they do not consider what others feel on that day. Oh, that is another record. I've never dated anyone through Valentines day -- ever. Just once I would love to have something to do on that day with someone I so care about. I guess it does not help when one is a romantic. It does not make life easier when you realize that the things you dream or wish would happen do not. You do not get romantic surprises these days. It is almost as though most girls are so easy that guys no longer have to try. And, if you're someone who is in love, please don't force yourself into pretending that stars will fall from the sky and he'll realize that he loves you back. It just doesn't work that way. Trust me. I waited over five years for dreams to happen, for one romantic gesture, for one little thing, and it doesn't happen.
Call me a cynic if you wish. I know I am young to be so cynical. But I've spent what seems like a million lifetimes learning that fairy tales are not all they've cracked up to be. Princes do not arrive on white horses to take you away. They do not appear out of nowhere as a romantic gesture. They do not say "I love you" and they do not just show up to say hello. Alas, England yielded no Mr. Darcy, and the US has done a piss poor job of yielding any white knight, in whatever form.
Too bad we learn how much we can hurt when we are so young. A broken heart at eighteen is certainly better than losing your love earlier -- but perhaps if you're learning begins at an earlier age you realize that one day things really must changed, and perhaps you learn to heal better. Regardless, I was not on that discovery boat. I did not learn that life was much simpler lived alone, especially when your heart screamed for the one soul it could not, and can not have.
So welcome to winter, Ice Queen. For my heart is more frozen now than it ever was. I wonder, some days, if I'll ever have a chance to stop being so cynical. Perhaps yes, but most likely -- I fear -- that chance has passed. So lead me, weather, through the days to come and wash away the pain with your snowflakes. They'll dance to the ground faster than my tears can freeze, and I hope, you'll take everything away from me. Thrust me into spring before I know, and remind me to take a deep breath and remember, soon will come the summer, and the anniversary of us meeting, but one day not long after, will be the day the world fell apart.
Dwell not, I tell myself, in the past which has pulled you so far apart, but push forwards to the future, to the next life, next love, next loss. For that is what you know. Breathe deeply and try to remember that the world is not fair, and in it's eyes, you are still not yet grown. You're but a child. As hard as it may be to admit, 23 is not old, not yet.
Just breathe in the rain. And watch the world blossom with the blessing of water. Forget what it is which ails you, and just breathe in the rain.
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