It’s the weather, I figured.
That fifth day I was here, that 23rd day of April… the weather was exactly like today. It is the weather. The weather that came with the news that love is sometimes not worth keeping, not worth forgiving, not worth giving. Such cold news that froze my heart harder than the oldest iceberg.
And today, if I could turn colder than the coldest snow, I would freeze all the warm thoughts and all my kind words, only to tell you my cold truth that love and all its hardened meaning has melted. Away. My seasonless love is no more waiting for the summer’s sun, nor it is fond of the firewood smoke kissing the snowflakes that fall on our chimney.
My love has gone weatherless on a day like today. And on every today, for the many todays to come. I have turned too cold to feel.
enida,
now don’t get all mushy on me.terbit airmata akak.
enida
my blood ran cold reading this entry.i hope and pray somewhere there’s a ray of sunshine with your name on it.
Dear Ida,
You always have beautiful words for me. And these, just brought warmth to my heart. I’ll be sure to write your name in the snow today. Thank you.