the day of, i laughed it off and shrugged away the tears. it feels better to be entertaining, after all, i did have company to keep.
the day after, K was kind enough to drive me two hours so we could comfortably sit in silence through six cups of tea. (there was bits of conversation in between.)
i watched fish glide and thrash gulping air and water trying to swallow the food we threw in. mesmerizing. comforting. bag emptied they dissolved into murky waters, leaving our shadows rippling over my doubt of whether they’d actually ever been there–storm sky grey, vibrant orange, such contrast in their hues.
further up, further away from the chaos of the city, the wind grew colder, and perched on a ledge, i felt at peace. (what is there that rolls of mountains, that a fading of the distance, can’t erase, that it can’t ease?) i breath with more clarity.
on return, we stopped at a bridge, and i was surprised to recognize the tangle of wires and steel. was it twenty years (or more) prior that i stood on the other side, shaken by fear? there should be photographs somewhere of me as a toddler, gripping onto my father, my face a smile of exhilarating potential for disaster. i remembered the bridge being so much bigger. i remembered it all so differently.
so much changes over the years.
so much changes in a few minutes. (i have a thousand thoughts to prove it.)
last night, i didn’t want to but i slept to tears.
being through it all before, i still know, this time will not be easy.
you have broken me so completely.