there is a distinct hum in the air, as cars go whizzing past my now open window. it's cold outside. that kind of cold only fall can produce. where you're still holding onto the idea of sunshine = summer. but that isn't true any longer. September, you've come and gone with a blink of an eye. caught in me are so many different emotions and words that I can hardly find the motivation to breath out one last sigh to say goodbye to you. so onto October. where the smell of decaying leaves is somehow comforting in the midst of all this change.
and we, like seasons, we shift and move forward. rotating and culminating and persevering onwards and upwards. attempting to bind ourselves to the same fiscal calendar year as time operates. the upswing of summer brings bright cheerfulness. a hope of all hopes for the things to come. it speeds up to a remarkable pace, we can't catch our breaths, all we can do is move.
then fall, a harsh reality settling in over night. one day warm, the next day it takes forever for the sun to rise and our sweaters smell like closets from being put away for so long. soon the decent of calm cold winter will hit us. and we'll stop. the decibels of the world will drop octaves down and down until we're all speaking on the same level of anticipation for the newness that spring will bring, and again, the hope of summer. rotating. us, the world, everything. another year goes by and even though we remember, sometimes all too clearly, the moments as they pass, we still forget how easily effected we can be by reminders. and reminiscence of our 'past'
I question my dedication to forgetfulness sometimes. hoping that my mind will allow me a peaceful thought, a nice memory of say, that one time we did that thing in that place. but instead I'm betrayed again and again and again, and the forcefulness I use to shove you from my head becomes much more satisfying than the alternative.
you see, turning 30 gave me something I never thought I'd have. patience. and I continue to hold onto that often misunderstood virtue as my savior of all things. I learned to move casually, without fear. towards my own self. a person I had to be, without you. and even though we play these tentative games back and forth we both know that the endgame, much like chess, is an empty board where someone will win, and someone will lose. But I am no longer in the business of being lost.