What the Wind Didn't Carry

 I'm driving home. A sharp sting floods in through the down windows. The air wildly tousles my air. I finished work for the day, the sun descends, the air playfully whips and whistles, I'm free.

The night beyond waits to unfold. I'm excited to return home. For in an about an hour I'll be able to unwind with my love.

I wonder what movie we'll find to watch, maybe a TV show, or casually catch up with music on in the back. 

Will we talk about the things unsaid? The lack of comfort between us. The drought of touch. The dive into distraction to keep the peace, or to serve as an anchor to reconnect. The too often tabled troubles tucked behind the curtain of love, will they emerge?

I wonder how his day was, if he's still enjoying work, if he's making strides in his social efforts with co-workers. Is he taking care of himself through the day, eating well?

I merge onto the highway, intensifying the winds thrash and drag. I barrel towards home.

Will the conversation veer into uncharted territory, with tears in my eyes, will I plead a case for love once more. The distance between becoming too much, the way back to hope, to respite, to refuge is closing.

I arrive home and quickly switch into comfier clothes. 

The soft touch of gym shorts and hoodie clutch my body. The wind whipping freedom seems suddenly distant.I frenzy into free time to keep that free feeling alive. Tidying bothersome messes, blaring music, swaying to the evoking emotion, getting lost in my motions. It's a cathartic remedy, but doesn't satisfy something burgeoning to life inside.

I wonder why my words never got across. For they were hard words to find, words tucked deep inside, shrouded by tricks of my mind. Words once unveiled, nailed me to shame. For love had left me behind and kept coming home. 

You arrive home and it's dull and forced. It's a lead up to an uncomfortable talk. That much I know. I know you all too well.

Quick you were to find the words that this journey has ended. To you it was over for years, yet kept playing pretend. 

The wellspring of hope I summoned, clung to all in vain. Again words I hoped never to find, but you gave up. You were once vulnerable, soft, invested. Then quietly disappeared under guise of deflection, guise of self interest.

I wonder is the an iteration of love leaving me lone, or are you setting me free. Were the words, all this time silently banked and this is the sown reward. To be free of running round in hapless rotations. To stop the chaotic dizzying cyclical motion.

I wonder why hope hummed in a thready pulse, yet for you it was a long abandoned beat. I wonder why you peddled on playing make believe taking me overseas, carrying on this painful farce when you knew all along. 

Were my pleas for love and affection sullen uttering to a lone quiet cosmos. Was arguing easier than admitting you didn't have care to give me what I needed, Was you're quiet surrender freeing or damning. For years I slept alone, falling asleep with that point in ponder, your bedroom door shut to me. It closed when I packed to leave that time ago and it never reopened.

I packed once more out of obligation. To approach it like a chore was the only way to get it done. I piled framed photos and the notebook I partially filled with the romantic writings I once mused and left then on the kitchen counter. I wonder would you keep them or trash them. Would you flip through the box of love letters I left at the top of the closet. I step outside to scream and cry as the limitless dreams, hopes and promises all explode in this one moment. The wind blew soft that later winter afternoon. 

I pull out of the drive one last time and I wonder where the dream went as I ran dizzying in circles chasing a love I hoped to never lose.



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