The wind that rattled our windows last night has died down, and the sun is shining, but still my boss told me not to come in and open at the coffee shop this morning because she didn't expect there to be too many people venturing out today. Not saying I'm complaining about the unexpected day off, just that maybe we're overreacting a bit about this weather. Yes, the windchill is -30, and I'm not saying we should all strip naked and go jump in the snow, but all the school/business closings, etc. seem a bit overboard to me. I never remember getting 'cold days' when I was in school. We wore warm clothing and got on with it. I could go on about how kids are coddled way too much these days, but I'll spare you the soapbox rant. Boy, do I sound old.
Anyway, I'm sitting on the couch in our living room and have opened the shades on all six windows to let the much needed light in. Of course, now I'm complaining quietly to myself about how bright it is (we're never happy, are we?). Usually, I'd have a dog on each side of me keeping me warm, but they followed hubby upstairs to bed a few hours ago, so I've settled for one of the many blankets I have folded in a basket on the floor. While I'm here, though, I may as well indulge the thoughts that had me awake at 2:30 this morning:
The further away we drift, the more I'm learning how truly alike we are. It's sad, really: the desire to make more memories coupled with the knowledge that you can't. Never had a goodbye been so hard or hurt so much as when I got on that bus and watched you
shrink from view through a screen of tears. I think I knew I'd never see you again. I've tried to keep the line between us open, but I can only stretch so far. I have my distractions: the day's first cup of coffee, a soft dog ear--but somehow life seems so much colder, emptier without you in it. I've always thought you had to fall in love a bit with your friends, and I did with you, more so than anyone else. I remember the first day of that class we had together nearly ten years ago when I chose the empty seat next to you. Your hair was teased high and tinged with pink. Through one ear you'd threaded a feather, and through the other a pull chain with a skull charm at the end of it. But your black lined eyes were warm. Later, after we'd gotten to know each other a little better, you said you thought you made people uncomfortable, chased them away. You were surprised that I still wanted to be around you. Well, look at you now, how much you're loved, and by how many. It only took opening yourself up a bit. I just happened to be in the right place when you decided to start. I'm happy to see you didn't stop. And I miss you. More than ever.