Cold Summer Nights

by Poetically Yours, Chesca

This is no longer about forgetting to wrap myself in a blanket before I fall asleep. Or the pouring rain which blows out winds that breeze in through my window. I am freezing. And I am tired of feeling cold.

The sunrises of 5 a.m. mornings wake me up, and my face is buried in my pillow. I smell the fragrance of lavender laundry soap and although it is lovely it is not the scent of you. I close my eyes. I roll over to the darker side of my bed, the side faced the wall, the side faced with you. I open my eyes. I look at you. You smile at me. You are not there. You are only in my memories. I touch the empty side of my bed, the bed sheets cold without another warm body to lay upon.

I am tired of feeling alone.

It is ironic how I felt some loneliness even with your presence. I think we both knew that those past months have been different compared to those past years. It was difficult being next to you– the icy tension getting sharper and sharper every passing minute that my hands were not intertwined with yours. It was difficult because you were a gust of cold wind that I always felt but tried to not see nor pay any attention to. It is difficult when I used to find warmth through the sound of your strings, your exceptionally trite jokes, your laugh, your smile. I remember the sun upon my cheeks when you kissed me there. I remember how it flushed like a sunset, turning pink– shining out like rays.

Everyday, they are all the same. Each waking morning I rise with the thought of you. It is not even in only the mornings. It is also during the darkest of nights, the loneliest of afternoons and all the moments in between.

There is no metaphor to describe how much I miss the old you. I want to feel warm again.

I want to feel loved again.

It is like walking through an endless blizzard that kept getting me lost. I am blinded by the snow, and all I want is to be found again. Maybe by someone new. Maybe by someone like you, except someone better. Someone that would not make the innocent Autumn leaves slowly falling, hail down like a cold winter storm.

I want to feel summer again.