I didn’t walk with you today. I probably won’t walk with you tomorrow either. It was lovely while it lasted, but there isn’t a need in my soul anymore.

But, I want you to know that it isn’t you—it’s me.

I convinced myself that it would be cold and windy and probably snowy, so I stayed away. I told myself that it would just be making myself miserable. I found a reason to stay home.

But then the sun came out and made everything so gorgeous and inviting and I thought about how much I miss you. I could feel the sun in my eyes and the breeze on my face. I almost caved in…

I found the couch instead. And the blanket. And my fluffy socks.

Doughnuts and ice cream beckoned and I couldn’t resist. (They know the path of least resistance when it comes to my heart.) I pondered a last minute visit to help get me back on track—yet, I stayed away.

I’ll go once, I told myself, and then get sucked back in to the routine. Drive there then drive back. Climb up and climb down. Run (but not actually run run).

But I didn’t.

I convinced myself that it would be cold and windy and probably snowy, so I stayed away. I told myself that it would just be making myself miserable. I found a reason to stay home.

Now it’s been two months and you’ve barely been touched with snow. I have guilt for abandoning you—and for abandoning me. I think about you often and what could have been.

I do look forward to the day we meet again. I flatter myself thinking that I will jump out of bed ready and willing to bond with you when the sun comes back, but we both know I don’t work that way.

I’ll complain and overthink and find ways to get around the effort, and sometimes I will succeed. Sometimes I’ll find the love and make the grand gesture. And it will be good.

I have hope. You should too.

Finding you was a revelation and an experience I didn’t expect. The best kind of surprise that can be found. And I know that I let us slide…

It doesn’t help that I see you every day—sparkling and bigger than life. I smile at you whenever I can. And I hope that when it’s time for us to meet again that you will be gentle and not make me pay too mightily for what I have done.

I know that it will take time to reconnect and get back to that place that served us both so well and I am already looking forward to it.

(Just don’t expect it to be in the cold or the wind or the snow—because I’ll stay away. I will just be miserable and I will find a way to stay home.)

So, for now, I say goodbye. And thank you. And don’t change. Because I do love you and I want to be with you but now just isn’t a good time for me. For us.

I just ask that you remember me fondly—as I will remember you.

©DRB 2016

photo: yours truly

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