A Taste of Spring

12:09pm

I’m trying to tell myself to ‘think positive’.  But all I feel like doing is crying …

A Taste of Spring

Early snowdrops

And two brave daffodils

Tentatively raise their heads

From their winter beds

At the promise of spring

In the fresh morning air.

The smell of yesterday's

Freshly cut grass

Rides on the light breeze.

I can feel Spring’s gentle fingers

Comb through my hair,

Chasing away the bite of winter

That had become the norm.

The garden seems

More alive somehow

The birdsong brighter.

I lift my eyes skywards

To gaze at the wispy clouds

Cupping my hands

Around my steaming mug

Of English Breakfast tea,

And I wonder

What the new season

Will bring.

Right now, that thought scares me.  I went to church with Paula this morning (I made myself go).  I thought once I was there it might feel better, but found myself wishing the floor would swallow me up, skirting past the greeters at the door (searching for newcomers to pin nametags on like vultures eyeing up fresh meat), willing nobody to talk to me.  I felt detached and wooden throughout the service, until a forest scene flashed up onto the projector behind the words to the final hymn, stirring something up in me.  Something about it took me right back to a tramp up the mountain Will and I had done, a little over a year ago.  His carefree laughter and easy grin seemed to fill my mind in that instant, and I remember the way the wind tousled his hair as we stood on a peak for a selfie, his arm resting on my shoulders. 

Before I realize it tears are prickling at my eyes.  I quickly blink them away, forcing myself back into the present.  But the ache still sits there in the pit of my stomach – my mind keeps being drawn subconsciously back to that moment, and all the possibilities that lay ahead of us …

It had been an almost storybook perfect romance up until then, the way it had all panned out … before I ruined it all.  Not just for myself, but for Will as well.  It hurts to think about what could have been, where the two of us could be now if things had been different.  And it hurts even more when I think about the chances of ever getting back to that place …