i
Though it was May, I kept thinking of snow and frost, of coats and hats, of red noses and weather stories. It was sad, I kept thinking, that she wouldn't be around to see that. I didn't expect her to still be around in the sun of two summer's later, smiling and laughing and not just a dream.
ii
I said goodbye to her, the last time I expected to see her. In reply, she told me that she was staying. So she was there even when I returned- there were more weeks, there were more memories. I let myself fall that little bit more, and I had said goodbye for nothing.
iii
I didn't pay attention to her, the first time. She was just another face in the crowd. Because of that, it didn't faze me once she was gone- that was just how it worked. Besides, I had no reason to care. It was only when she returned that I took notice; only then that I felt the relief.
iv
We met, and I thought, this is it, maybe I'll only get this week. I couldn't see it reciprocated, couldn't see it lasting. But I got that week, and the next and the next, over thirty, and still counting.
v
The earth falls asleep each winter, knowing that it will be awakened by spring's caress. The beach lets go of the sea, unable even to hold on, sure of it's return. I am made of the same carbon as the sand, I breathe the oxygen found in the earth. I have learnt of second glances, been given second chances. So why, then, do I remain so scared of loss?