today was good, no matter the weather, which seemed to personify you, be you:
it was a rainy day. the sort of gloomy day one might transpire if they wished to ruin someone’s plans.
because plans are fragile. like faberge eggs – one gentle tap and they may fall to the ground, all the hard work, the beauty instilled within obliterated.
but no, that’s unfair:
you wouldn’t wish me to mourn your temporary passing, sitting at home miserably sipping tea, earl grey, no less. you wouldn’t want me staring blankly out of the window, all day, as if my sole look outside will make you come back. no. you’d rather i mourned your going away in a manner that made it seem i was glad you went.
that way, you wouldn’t have to feel guily.
so, yes, it was raining. not just drizzling, no. a downpour from the skies, like someone running a tap up there, the water coming down in huge fat drops, not dissimilar to leeches overgorged on blood.
i thought that ice-skating was a gone thing. thankfully, X wouldn’t give up. no. he changed our plans to accomodate the weather:
we went ice-skating still, just in a contained space, so that there was no rain to stop us. so that both of us could still do what we had originally planned. it was beautiful. really lovely. maybe not as idyllic as i would have liked, but hey… it was good. can’t complain, right?
somehow, i’m not sure what it is that i want any more. i thought i did, but that was time ago now. the plan was to drop him and be with you. i was going to give up on the crashing car, as you reffer to him. i was going to give you the chance you deserve.
but boy, what if i can’t do that any more?
what if i was to say that i like crashing cars?