F R I D A Y . F E B R U A R Y . 1 9 T H . 1 9 9 9

The hot water poured over me as I leaned into it and the cold stone shower wall. I had hoped to find comfort here in the steamy hot water but I didn't. It just reminded me more of you and the empty hollow feeling in my chest. I can feel it happening all over again and I'm left with nothing except for the blur of what I thought was real.

I wanted to tell you how I felt as you slipped away, I remember exactly when it started and how I denied it and condemned the thought in my head. You slipped quickly and expectedly like the hot water down my back leaving a cold harsh sting when I backed away into the cold air.

The hot water embraced me and made me forget for the moment how cold I had become, how shut down and in need of hydration.

W I L T E D.

You offered me the sun and I rose up and opened up to receive your warmth and nourishment. I must have misinterpreted the season; you know how the weather can be, misleading, unpredictable, and even fickle. I should have remembered the cold harsh winds of winter sometimes bring a seemingly bright and warming sun. I wish I hadn't left the safety and artificial warmth of my glass house, the house I let you into, the house I left the door open to.

I wanted to tell you…

…but I've become so accustomed to the cold.

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