4.30 I wake, the birds are singing outside our window. I lay alone. Listen. Their clear whistle punches through the early morning. The day not bright, not quite ready for their chorous. Yet they sing. Shout aloud. I scream. Tears run down my face. They are alive, so alive. You’re not there. Still not there. Can you hear them? Hear them sing.
I wish I could say I’m sorry. I wish you could hear my words. In the long dark hours before dawn I dream of you and apologise for the hurt I caused. It wasn’t enough. It’s never enough. I wake with regret. Thinking of you.
I sit alone. Light off, door closed. Listen to the drumming rain at the open window. A breeze in an empty room, passes through me, not touching, not pressing, just there. With me. I breath a little easier. I breath.
Blue, like the ocean. The tide that turned. The bruise on my hand a reminder. Of the pain I avoided. The day that I changed. I kiss my marked skin. Drown it its sorrow.
A light on my bike, steers through the darkness. Pedals turn as I leave you behind. Winter drawing in now, the shadows breathe a little deeper. Air grips tight around me. A compress on my chest, crushes as I cry.
A change in the wind, leaves limp from the trees, not ready to let go. I’m not ready to let go. A change. Sun bright, air cold. Leaves gather at the road side, conkers crushed, defeated. This day. I think of you. Not ready for the change.
Clocks tick, keyboards type. The everyday clickity clack of life. Life without you. Life without us. Still we tick on. The absence aching.
The thing you couldn’t place. That feeling, unsure. A look, a gaze. Recognition. Maybe. That well in your heart. That spike in your pulse. A bite in the air. A chill at your side. That was me. Waiting to be seen. That was us. Lingering over a moment.
Night walking. Head hazy. The streets warped like an Escher picture. Yet my routefinder kicks in. My feet walk a path they’ve walked too many times before.
Third lamppost on the left, take the snicket Dark and narrow I snag on brambles falling free, skin torn, stinging. Head for the light, the other side. Stumble on loose paving stones down the steps to arrive on your street.
Quiet. Calm. Unchanged.
I sit on the pavement. Hug my knees tight. Here again.