Wintry Solitude
Have you ever been in love
Been in love so bad
You’d do anything
To make them understand
Have you ever had someone
Steal your heart away
And you’d give anything
To make them feel the same
Have you ever searched for words
To get you in their heart
But you don’t know what to say
And you don’t know where to start
Have you ever found someone
You dreamt of all your life
You’d do just about anything
To look into their eyes
Have you finally found the one
You’ve given your heart to
Only to find that one
Won’t give their heart to you
Have you ever closed your eyes
And dreamt that they were there
And all you can do is wait
For the day when they will care
Have you ever loved somebody
Have you ever loved somebody so much
It makes you cry
Have you ever needed something so bad
You can’t sleep at night
Have you ever tried to find the words
But they don’t come out right
Have you ever, have you ever
~Brandy
No. That’s not about my ex. It’s a whole other story. Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell it.
This morning when I woke up, I looked out my window and my jaw must have dropped clear to the ground. It was snowing. Not just light, delicate flakes like faeries dancing on the edge of forever, but heavy, sticky flakes, blanketing the land and weighing down the branches of trees so that they bent under the strain. And even as I admire the beauty and grace of the falling splendor, I am faced with the prospect of travelling down the road to the school with not only Gregory, but Donovan, too. Let me tell you, this winter will NOT be a fun one for me. Almost a mile in falling snow, worrying every step of the way if the baby is covered enough with the blanket, making sure his hands are warm enough because he doesn’t have gloves yet, wondering if Gregory has warm enough clothes on, fretting because neither one of them have winter boots yet, and I can’t afford them right now. By the time I got home, there was well over an inch of snow on the ground. In OCTOBER.
OK, so maybe I am a worry-wart, but these kids are all I have, all that gets me out of bed every morning, and even the slightest prospect of something happening to them, even an illness, fills me with such dread that my mind shies away from the thoughts. I couldn’t bear it.
And walking with those kids this morning, even though it sounds weird, just kind of brought home to me how truly ALONE I am now. No one to leave the baby with so I can take Gregory to school when the weather is bad. No one to snuggle with under the covers while the snow works its magic outside the frosty glass.
And being alone always brings thoughts of that other, the one that has never been able to be replaced, no matter how hard I try. The one that I love so much it makes me cry, and have loved for so long it’s as if he has always been a part of my heart. And I wonder what HE is doing. And I wish things could be different. Again. And sometimes I hate the fact that I can call him up anytime I want to and talk to him, knowing that he cares about me, but not the way I wish. And I hate myself for wishing for what cannot be, and hope against hope that my heart would just LISTEN to me and cease the madness, so that I can enjoy what we DO have. Have you ever felt that way?
Oh, and pick a button, any button.
