The snow is falling wet and heavy. (Yes, this portion was written in February)
It’s beautiful how slowly it falls, almost dancing to the wind, carefree of its weight on this summer soul.
Ok that’s a bit melodramatic, but it is how I feel this morning.
My heart is heavy and yearning for sun and even lovely flakes feel hard, pressed down.
And yet, they keep on coming.
I’m losing (or lost) a close friend.
It’s a weird feeling and it hits me at odd times, like now, when the snow is falling.
I go back and forth between mad and heartbroken, then irritated with myself.
Thing is, its been largely one sided for a very long time, but I was fully committed, I’m still not convinced I’m not.
Letting go is hard and heavy and hits me like the snow flakes; gently but relentless, leaving behind a streak of frost bite, I’m desperately trying to warm up under…
Life’s too short to live with frost bite though, and while this current season has its own type of bite I continue under the weight.
I am learning to look at the skies and the flakes and the drops they produce and see the hand that drops them. I am learning to focus on the beauty directly in front of me, instead of the pain. Peculiar weather.