She’s sat on the steps. A gentle breeze plays in the dark night. Her heart is as black and heavy as the imposing sky. No stars shine their magical light in her world; darkness rules in his ebony robes.
She wants to cry but she can’t; there’s nothing left to give. Inside her the nagging twisted feeling just builds.
Her life is on autopilot; she has lost all control. She doesn’t live any more, just exists.
As she is sat there, the breeze caresses her as he once did. Somewhere a radio whispers a love song, its tender words reminding her of his. The caresses she longs to feel again; the words she longs to hear.
He never knew that she still loved him; he never knew that, despite everything, she had never stopped. She had spent hours desperately searching for the switch to turn off those loving feelings but she never found it. In truth she knew that it never existed.
He didn’t love her. He repeated the words over and over. She began to wonder just which of them he was trying to convince.
A tear escapes and begins to trace its path to freedom. No noise is uttered; her grieving is silent.
He wanted just a friend, and for her sanity that was what she tried to be for him. The trouble was, the rules kept changing; they always had. The ironic thing was that he had complained that she was the one who always wanted to take charge.
She’d wanted him to be the one. She’d clung to that dream for nearly three and a half years. A dream that he had shattered two days ago; and he seemed so proud of the stupid and reckless thing he had done.
The night; it was her special time. She could be alone with her feelings; she didn’t have to fight with them, didn’t have to keep them locked away, hidden deep inside. She’d always loved the night. When darkness fell it came to her like a long departed lover returning to her arms.
The image of them intertwined tries to enter her minds eye, and she tries to shut it out. The image has no features, no face. She offers up a silent prayer, for this small thing she is eternally thankful.
Night becomes morning as the clock slowly edges its way past midnight. All around her lights go out one by one; the world closes one sleepy eye after another.
She wonders why she lets him make her feel this way; but could she stop it even if she wanted to?
The night calls to her; its soothing voice enticing her into its dark recesses. She wants to follow. The voice becomes louder. She has nothing to keep her here. The voice calls again. Leaving everything behind her, she walks into its open and welcoming arms. She does not look back; she is going home.
I Grieve... 