[kittygrrl]

found-written to me a long time ago-

Cold rain, Razors edge…
The rain is cold today, the wind blustery, making my skin feel raw, as bone chilling rivulets of water whip my face. All, in a sense, keeping the mood and the iciness my heart feels, except for the ever warm part where you live.
I walk.
I look at the faces of those coming toward me, most of them with dogs or kids in tow, all fighting the blast from the elements. Some are lighted, and I can see they are where they need to be, some are animated yet much focused on some unseen event, far away. Then there are those whose faces are blank; no acknowledgement, alone, no imaginary conversation, just blank. The icy fingers dripping down my neck remind me, there go I. Hollow, empty…being here for you and moving forward.
I walk.
The rain becomes more determined, the chill crawls under my skin, grabbing onto my bones, as though trying to hide inside my body. The park is peppered with dusk stragglers, kids running home, and teenagers, with last minute embraces. I see their hungry faces, the passion, the hope, the burning desire. Remembering, sheltering you in the rain, listening to the thunder…holding you. The rain has turned to ice. People scatter… being here for you and moving forward,
I walk.
The walk home is cold; I’m alone on the street. Passing by cheerily lit homes, ready for the season, I can see inside, people talking, I wonder. I watch from the outside. Only, an older couple shares my solitude now on the street, their umbrellas occasionally sparring, as they hurry along, together…I ache to be with you, hearing you squeal about the weather, chatter about dinner…. The icy rain plops on my jacket, splashing my ears…being here for you and moving forward,
I walk.
Finally, the dark house, we shared, comes into view. Dull, lightless and lifeless. My brain switches to laughter, warm embraces, a festive tree, brightly colored packages, and you inside those walls.…Black ice now covers my heart and the rain is like a razor’s edge… being here for you and moving forward,
I walk, past.
“The night was cold and bleak
I wept not that long, long night
T’was not until daybreak I wept for thee and me”