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Seasons

Dorian Sinnott

    I lose you. In the summer air, standing in your driveway as you kissed me goodbye—for the last time. I lose you in the apologies you spew from those same lips. Lips I once heard words of love from, but now, only regret. As your porch light dims, fireflies becoming my only friend, I lose you.
    Alone, I weep until my eyes no longer can find tears, counting calendar days and ticking minutes. Praying summer’s last light would break over the fields, taking the haze and heat away with you.
    But, even when you left, never to be seen again, I still felt that sting.

    See, I lose you in autumn, too. When the first leaves fall fresh on the dying earth. I lose you in every misty breath, in the fog that rolls over the hills, snaking its way around my porch. In every cup of coffee, butter toffee (your favorite), I lose you.
    We fell in love under the gold and amber hues of the equinox, counting stars and planning our future. A future cut short by something we couldn’t foresee. Time had a better place for you—a better place for me. But still, that pain lingers. Heavy in the crisp autumn air.
    And under flannel sheets, I lose you. The weight on your side of the bed still remains, blankets pulled up and neatly tucked in, how you always left them. (How you left me...) Yet, I wasn’t neat and untouched. I was disheveled, stained. Tossed in the corner in a messy heap.

    When winter rears its head and the first snowfall of the season brushes the trees, I see your ghost. Airy apparitions of who we used to be. Footprints no longer left in snow, but forever embedded in my heart. In the crackling fireplace embers, remembering the nights we spent beside it, I lose you.
    The slanted winter light reminds me how long it’s been. Seasons shifting through my windows, around my living room, like the hands of a clock. But still, in the afternoon rays, I see us. The way we used to be. And when the shadows set in, again, I lose you.

    I’m awake early in spring, up with the symphony of birds. And in each of their songs, in
every
song that graces my car stereo, I lose you. In lyrics we once sang, feeling the warm breeze, and filling it with love and laughter. Even when the rains would fall by evening, cleansing the earth for new life, I find no peace. In the rhythm on my roof, I lose you.
    I lose you.

    In everything I do, in every place I go. I didn’t just lose you the day you left. No. I lose you every night and every day. In old memories. A pain that, in time, numbs, but never truly goes away.
    And I wonder to myself; in everything you love, and everything you do... do you lose me, too?

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