There’s always something getting through.
Saw a montage of you, and I had to look away. My heart is still palpitating, like I just saw someone I’m trying to get over. Those few seconds of exposure felt like I was prematurely peeling a scab, and the needles of pain shot to the surface of the wound saying I’m not ready. I am not healed fully. At least not yet.
That’s one of the reasons why I need to go back… one of the reasons why I won’t mind braving the snowy ground. I am hopeful that somehow, the thirty-degree chill will fire my heart again, and the uphills will bring me once again to my element. I can’t wait to displace you, like the rest of the phases I’ve been through. Give you a rest. Not let you make me worry about anything else but the present.
One more day.
