The Dark Side of Love
2nd Saturday prompt: reuse the words
My hands are cold from the biting wind and rain. The hike was so peaceful, so healing, but it got wet towards the end. And my new rain poncho wasn’t up to the task of completely keeping me dry. So, my hands got wet. Stayed wet.
I look at you, striding ahead of me. In days past, you would stop, say something, or give me a kiss. Now you have your headphones on, anything to distract you from my presence. You do offer me water from your bottle ever so often, and that’s a small relief.
You have so many worries inside that head of yours, and I’ve tried so hard over time to extract every one of them and offer some balm, some respite, some light moments. I’ve given it my all — all my compassion, all my being, all my love.
The memories pile up all together in my head and threaten to crash down on my head. The hikes we took, you always showing me features on the ridges far away, me smiling, the wind against my face. The times we traveled together, hiking during the days, drinking in the evenings, laughter and mild chatter, dancing sometimes. And then lying in bed together, me up close against your back, inhaling your scent, wishing it would last forever. Looking at the moon outside the window, thinking of the time you captured it on video, reminiscing while you slept.
