They say it'll get better.

Did it?

No.

Was it true?

Partly.

You see, it doesn't go away completely. It still lingers deep in my head, haunting me before I go to bed.

It taints my thoughts; and I can't controll it sometimes. So no, that never changes.

You just become stronger. Adapt. Because there is something deep inside of you to grasp onto. To pull so hard your knuckles begin to bleed.

The darkness is infinite; and never goes. We all just live in shades of grey.

Yet somehow in a sick and twisted way the black turned me into yellow.

Made me feel.

Stronger.

And if someone were to ask if I could avoid such a dark time I would slap them and scream no.

Because in truth I was no one before.

And now I'm everyone.

Because I found my voice in a black pen.

And my black ink remains black, but it is the brightest shade of yellow I've ever seen.

Find your rope. Your outlet. Find your yellow; it's waiting for you.

.

She sits down and starts to talk. Letting everything out, all her joys and the sadness. It takes a lot time before she’s done but the words seem to bring her relief. So she continues. Telling him about things that have been stuck in her insides, rotting for years. Thoughts and problems that she has been struggling with for so long.

And as she says all that’s been needed to be said, he sits there beside her. Staring at her calmly and holding her hand. He knows how hard this is for her, so he doesn’t interrupt. He sits there silently, almost not moving. Just nodding from time to time, and trying to understand. There is no judgement in his eyes, no anger.

Regrets are set aside, bad memories put away somewhere in the cardboard boxes, that will leave this home with him. Everything that stood between them, is now tucked away. Replaced by assurance, that they are doing the right thing. Finally on the right path, in a place where they were heading for some time now. A place where they should have been ages ago. But there was always something stopping them. The comfort of being together for such a long period of time, the safety of a steady relationship. A safe haven of sorts, that made them stay. Because the alternative of being by themselves, frightened both of them. Not for the same reason, but still it was enough to stay.

Even if it didn’t work out between them like it used to. Even though it was all falling apart and they were heading for the rails, big time. They still held on to each other. In need of balance, of a strong base to stand on, when everything else was crashing fast. They had issues beyond fixing, things that couldn’t beat, no matter what. Both damaged in different ways, but damaged still.

She held a grudge against him, for a big loss, that fitted in her hands and yet the size of that loss was so enormous that it made her soul darker, heavier, polluted. It was hard to look at the man she loved and think what she had to sacrifice because of him. It was something that constantly stood between them, what lay in their bed, colder then the sheets covering their body’s on a winters day.

She often stared at him and felt nothing, literally nothing. She would look at him, while he worked on his computer, or when he read the newspaper and wonder. Tilling her head to the side and just staring. As if he wasn’t the person she had once fallen for, but a strange specimen of man. A an odd bug under the microscope. She just couldn’t understand what happened to them. What happened to her feelings and the love that seemed to outstretched its limits. But still she stayed.

Because leaving him , would mean leaving some of the feeling she couldn’t let go off. Not yet. She didn’t want to forget about her loss, latching onto it. Afraid she might lose it in a completely different way and that upset her. The possibility she might forget about her little treasure. As if it had never existed. As if it was never there. All of her hopes, all of the expectations. Dreams and future plans, plans that will never happen now... and still. It was so hard to let go. So she would stay, not for him or for the forgiveness that she wanted to give him so many times... even when it felt like there was nothing left in her to give.

And now, as she looks at him there is no more anger in her, just peaceful words, that come out in a long stream. Never stopping, never ending. She speaks, her voice already horse and he listens. Knowing that every one of those words are needed. That this is good for her. It’s Therapeutic. It lets her relax, let go of her pain. He squeezes her hand tighter and she gives a small smile. Relief and tiredness in her taking equal space. He takes a deep breath, almost chocking on a relief of his own and decides to say something before he changes his mind.

I have always loved that smile, Marley.

She stares at him almost surprised to hear his voice. There have been so many words from her and almost none from him. But that’s okay. He understand what she had to do here. What was needed to be said. She squeezes his hand back and the corners of her mouth lift slightly again. Something inside her that feels almost good. A strange spark that fills her up. Proving that there still was some life in her. A fire that she so needed.

It feels odd... as if I’m not doing it right.

He gives her a pained look. Sad that he was the reason for this. Sorry that they had to go through so much before understanding how wrong it was, and what it had done to them. He takes a deep breath and lets her know with his eyes that it’s all going to be alright. They are going to be fine.

Just remember the sensation and repeat every day...

She nods once and continuous. Words flowing once again. So much has been said already and yet it still wasn’t enough. He stares at her smooth face and listens calmly, thinking and counting her freckles. He always loved those, it was such a beautiful imperfection. His eyes shift slightly down to her hair, as the light shines through the window. He looks at them and wonders what their little girls hair would have been. Would they be fair and straight like hers, or would it be brown and messy just like his. He wonders at this and thinks once again about the small thing that made him stay in this relationship that was falling apart.

Silly, meaningless things. A joint account, the furniture they had bought together... paying of a student loan and the stack of CD’s filled with music they both liked... and some of the bigger stuff, like mutual friends and memories made in the time that they were together... they were happy once, they loved each other... and then his mind turns to their families. How his mum, stayed with them at the worst time and his dad build a swing in the back yard... He wraps his fingers tightly against hers and she nods again. Understanding. His pain, that of her own.

Just a little longer Sam...

He nods as well, and lets go of her hand, a bit scared that he might eventually brake it... all those emotions filling the room, too intense for either of them. He sits back against the couch and looks at his hands placed on his knees. He listens while she talks about their past and smiles as she hopes for the future. Separate, but hopefully a happy one. Minutes pass, turning slowly into hours. The sun setting quietly against the darkening sky. And when it disappears and the room gets darker, it finally all comes to an end. And when she says all, that there is to say and explains all, that there was to explain, and there is nothing else to say, she finally can allow herself to breathe. They both can.

They smile at each other and get put, bodies tired, limbs stiffed but minds at peace.

He pulls his arm around her and she falls into him. Allowing herself to remember him for the man that he was, and remembering the girl that once couldn’t live without him. A different girl, in a different time. She smiles again, knowing now that she was still there, somewhere deep inside.

A girl that could change the world with a boy that made her smile.

...................................................

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hM_kejkWeHU

Love has a limit.

How could we love endlessly?

If we can't control our feelings.

How could we love a person?

If people change involuntary & the earth keeps spinning.

How could we love an object?

If it can be lost or forgotten.

How could we love a home forever?

If it can be blown away in a instant.

From natural disasters or just the sense of it no longer feeling like home.

How could we say love has no limits?

If our world makes everything different.

Constantly evolving or self-destructing.

Love has a limit even if we can't see it.

As fire makes leaves wither,

So does the decay of fall forces leaves' crisp curl.

Decay, a word of death,

Yet sweet, succulent aroma of Autumn.

In their death, the bright flesh of trees,

Descending in a dance,

Singing haunting tunes,

Hold human eye.

Wide eye of the moon,

Shed gaze on stark limbs.

Screeching scream of owl,

Chill a child's bones.

Fall I cherish you,

Season of my heart,

In your leaves I may find rest.

The orange smell of cardamom and cinnamon waft around me as red leaves crunch underneath my feet. I drag my shovel next to me, keeping my head low. It’s hard to look up at the beautiful scenery around me. Swirling wind kisses my face as pale sunlight creeps through the branches of trees. I long to return to the autumn when my mother was still alive. All of this beautiful scenery in New England is not the same without her. Without her vibrancy, or her wisdom in what makes autumn seem so beautiful.

“Mom,” I say against the lump in my throat. “Did you hear that I got a job promotion? I took your advice and talked to the boss. I’m making twenty dollars an hour now.”

I smile against the tears that pool in my eyes. The leaves blur, almost like they’re drowning. The red, orange and yellow colors meld into one color.

I hear, in the distance, the sound of the river. Roaring. Mom always liked to sit by the river and tell me stories of her first autumn with Dad. Their first kiss, the proposal. He walks beside me, silent. He’s lost most of his hair since Mom died. Even lost a little more weight. But there’s a serenity in his face. Maybe he feels a connection to her still, as if she’s not gone.

“Dad, I’m still hurting.” I sigh, kicking a lonely tree branch. It reminds me of my childhood.

“Me too,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

I find that familiar old river and I sit by the oak tree like Mom and I would all the time. The umbrella that looms over me is a plethora of colors. Golden sunlight bleeds through the leaves, giving off a fairy-like glow. Or, at least, when I was a child, I thought they were fairies dancing joyfully. As resplendent and colorful everything is right now. Everything is so bare without her. Funny, how beautiful everything seems. Even though the leaves are at the twilight of their lives. Even though everything around me is dying. Even though everything is falling for winter. I remember how beautiful mom looked on her bed. During her final breaths, her eyes sparkled like diamonds. I knew she saw something. Whatever it was, I wouldn’t know. But she did see something and the permanent smile on her face reminded me of our days here at the river.

I take the shovel and begin to dig near the oak tree. Dad stays in the background and sits down. He seems lost in himself. In his own memories of her.

I continue digging, but then I find the box and my heart feels that profound pang in my body that brings me to my knees. Our old time capsule. We made a promise together that we would find the time capsule twenty years later. No matter what, I was going to stick to that promise and so here I am. My hands tremble as I hold the wooden box in my hand. Taking the key, I open it and smile when I see the first thing that appears.

My Baby Marley,

Today is not an easy day for me. Writing this letter isn’t an easy one. I’m sure by now you probably know all about my pain and suffering. I might not even be alive anymore. I didn’t want to tell you today since you love autumn so much and you love being here. Why would I sully your beautiful experience with this news? Marley, I have breast cancer. I just diagnosed a few weeks ago. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me in the future, but I just want you to be strong. I want you to grow up to be a fine woman. And the next time you come here to open this time capsule, I want you to take my ashes and spread them in the river. Always keep autumn in your heart. Even though winter follows, the spring will come. And I’ll always live in your heart.

                                                                                                                            Love,

                                                                                                     Mom

the sunflowers are blushing, longevity

the crows are glossy black and raucous

the shrieking sun peeks through the ghostly clouds

you can hear the blood-curdling howl of the werewolf wind

you can feel the fall colors wrap around you like a tartan backdrop

cider is at cedar

the apple trees are honeycrisp

the ground we walk on is caramelized flannel

a flannelette latte

an autumn auteur

a burnt umber umbrella

(K.M.M.)