Silent Night

The Christmas music fills my distracted mind. My eyes wander toward the falling snow and the reflection of the Christmas lights across the street. The ice cold reaches my fingers which are uncovered, and I push them deeper between my legs. My toes curl underneath my feet in hopes to spark some warmth in my winter boots. Yet in my healing heart, there is a soft, pricking feeling. This isn’t right. Here I am–alone–on this snowy, quiet night. You’re not here. I don’t even remember the last time you were there for me, to be honest. I’ve finally gotten over you. It took me long enough. 2 heartbreaking months of waking up every morning with the hope of your return, but every night always ending the same–the harsh truth shoved down my throat. Even through that cruelty, I still miss you some nights. What’s wrong with me? I guess that’s inevitable when someone means so much to you. But wait… you’ll never know what that feels like, right? I will never forget what happened between us, although most days I have no greater desire than to forget. You had me, and you made me feel as if I meant everything to you. What kind of lies did you tell yourself to feel better about leaving me like that? Honestly… Tell me. Please. I wanna know how you could do something so terrible to someone who cared so much. To someone who stood up for you in the face of mocking. To someone who stood by your side when you were grumpy enough to do something stupid. But you never cared, obviously–I see that now. Oh… hey… I saw something the other day on social media, and I immediately was reminded of you. It said:

Y’know how when it’s down pouring rain, and you go under a bridge? For a moment there is silence, and it almost seems as if there was no rain. But then as soon as you drive out from underneath the bridge, the rain somehow hits your car harder than it did before. You were my bridge.

Leave a Comment: