This season reminds me of you.Especially when it’s raining. The boom-rumble thunder shaking the house is reminiscent of gasping kisses and curious searching hands. I fell in love with you on a day like this, and you always resurfaced in my life in the fall. My eyes grow nostalgic as I sit on my back porch watching the low glow of the autumn gloaming bring a strange luminescence to the golden reds of nature turning in for the season. Fall always brings that alien yearning back to my breast, pulling me in all directions but nowhere. I still miss your face after all these years, and this year I’m almost drowning in the poignancy. I know it’s because I’m in love again. I feel it in my throat and my gut, and I am absolutely captivated. My memory is drawn to you now, even though the only thing the two of you have in common is me… And this feeling I have. It’s just the same, only this time I’m scared. I know what losing feels like. I know how it feels for your heart to ache with the love it cant give anymore, til you feel like you’re going to fly to pieces. I don’t know if I could survive something like that again. You see, hope never dies. It’s survival is it’s cruelty. It gets put away into boxes, shuffled in with scraps of paper covered with adolescent poetry and homemade hemp necklaces, and fades into a stinging reminder of what could have been.
I think maybe the aching is for the girl I was, too. Sometimes when I look in the mirror I catch glimpses of that bouncing ball of exuberance and I forget the tumult of the time. I remember the girl who was hungry for experience and laughter. Where every day was an adventure, and i wanted to touch, taste, see, DO it all. I still want that… But the possibilities don’t seem as endless now. I don’t feel as fearless and capable. That girl knew that she was something special. She knew she was going to do great things… The woman is not so sure… And that loss is not yours to shoulder… I just remember her best back then… I only miss who I was with you, how hopeful and free… So I close my eyes and let the cutting wind take me back to a place where the rain stung my cheeks as you kissed the wet from my nose, where blue-green-star shifting eyes laughed and sparkled me into mischief. I try to capture that girl who laughed around all of those wooded places with you, and dance her from my mind into the future, where maybe she can lend me some of that courage. I think I may need it again.