Through the Fall
He said “Hello”
like it was nothing
and in the beginning,
it was.
He was a fleeting glimpse of something
in the golden rays of summer
when the sea-breeze was bottled up
in a CD
Road trips and playlists,
melodies of heartbreak
that segued
into new beginnings.
The leaves changed colours,
road trips became classes,
and he
became an everything.
There is an echo in my heart
a blank illusion
full of devastating art
and whispered words
under a canopy of fairy lights
in a blanket fort of skin
smiles and warm laughter,
in a world that was once ours.
Cold beers and orange shorts,
longboards and golden tans
a boy and a girl
by a bonfire in the sand.
The beginning was nothing,
a soft whisper,
indistinguishable from
any other.
The Fall came in the middle,
when the blanket forts disappeared,
replaced by heavier conversations,
that turned into an “OK”.
An OK that carried through
the icy drizzle of a Vancouver autumn,
amidst giggles and promises,
a softer landing than hello.
He said “I love you”
like it was nothing
like it was easy,
and for a long time, I believed him.
Through the Fall,
through earlier sunsets,
through snowboards on a mountain top,
through grey winter days.
Somewhere in there,
the fairy lights turned dusty
and the whispered narratives became
screaming matches.
I’m fine,
it’s all fine.
It was always fine.
Until the screaming stopped.
It was,
in the end,
Nothing
when he finally said “Goodbye”.
