Six months ago I was still there. The winter, which had been even more bitter than usual, was followed by the coldest spring in years. I was tired. Things had stopped making sense altogether long ago. I kept telling myself I was having an existential crisis and I would just have to sit it out to see what comes, knowing all the while that something had to be done.
But now, here where the sky looks somehow more blue in the day, I can barely remember what that life used to be like. Right here, standing in the doorway, watching the golden sun as it sets colouring everything in my sight in different shades of red and orange. Waiting for you to come home.
No comments:
Post a Comment