I remember when Octobers used to be the sadness that existed in unspoken words, how the trees were the loudest whisper in the world, how, I love you used to get lost in that bone chilling autumn air. I know you used to wrap me up in blankets, make warm tea for me when we lied awake counting how many stars were burning to ice, as the nightfall turned into the chill that would keep us tucked safe beneath the covers in the morning. Sadness is a reminder that comes to me when the leaves descend to solid ground, but it isn’t the tragic divide of the changing seasons but the never faltering hope of what’s to come - knowing that no matter how harsh each season can be, there’s always guaranteed to be another one more pleasant. I see hope in the sparsity of the branches, trees becoming bare, shedding their light to allow a new beginning of seasons. The cold wind doesn’t rattle my bones like it used to, instead, it provides comfort that there are always extra layers I can wear, and your arms weren’t the only thing to keep me together. So if I could wrap up these moments with a neat and pretty bow, I’d save it for the days I forget to take solace in the chill. I’ve always loved how autumn is so graceful in letting go, and I love myself for knowing that there’s beauty when things are quiet, because that’s where the magic lies - that’s when your seasons will start to change. and I’m so ready to allow the warmth in me again.
