March 22, 2012 § Leave a comment

Day 82.

Big, thick worms were slowly making their way across the dirt driveway early this morning. The sky was a spring grey, and it stayed that way till nightfall. The clouds choked back raindrops as if they weren’t yet ready to show their true emotions. I spent most of the day bundled inside my fur coat. The early morning faded into the afternoon; then evening came without me realizing it. The worms disappeared at some point in the dreariness, and I was left with a lonely, muddy trail.

It was in this chilly spring day that I became a Michigan resident again. At some point in the dreariness I browsed online for 6 volt golf batteries; I ended it all with a melancholy movie. It was that kind of day where a bad hair day is brushed off easily but whining children seem to echo through the vacancy of my own emotion completely diminishing any ounce of patience I thought I had retained. I needed a good thunderstorm to shake things up and get me together.

As if hidden somewhere underneath the faux fur, my emotions could find no way out. The worms slid perfectly across my every step, painfully slow and looking to be most unenthused and it was probably that moment from which my day unfolded. There faceless bodies, no smiles or tears, and their inability to run and hide seemed to pass onto me like a drawn out yawn.

An old friend came to mind, but the tumultuous relationship could barely keep my mind occupied. Replaying the love and the hurt felt just as dull as my early afternoon visit to the quiet DMV. Number 72 waited patiently to step into the next chapter of a regretless life, number 72 was ready to let go of the past. “Number 72.” At my turn, I stepped up to the counter and turned over proof of my identification including an old ID showing a tan, optimistic girl. I handed over the sad memories and heartbreak, had a new, pale faced photo taken, and headed back out into the dismal world to wait for a really good rain.

A downpour has yet to happen, and I hesitate to take off the fur coat. The clouds wait to let go; I watch anxiously from the window, waiting to follow their lead. I am bored with kicking up dirt and stepping over worms. I am ready to jump in puddles and dance in the rain. I want to be ready for lightening to light up the gray sky, thunder to shake me until emotion spills over, and the bleak forecast to be proven wrong. I am ready.


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You are currently reading Eighty-Two at Lost In the Separation.


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