Sunday, January 22, 2012
Out Of Time - A re-post from one of my other sites
The howling wind kept my small body shivering, the snow was piling on this small rooftop like a coating of cupcake icing and there was still no sign of him. It was five till nine and time was slowing down all around me. I looked around the empty lot and imagined him running through that door, ready and willing. But there was just the door and the sound of the city breathing. I love this place, you could see the whole of Chicago from here, covered in a thick layer of winter but beautiful none the less. All the shining lights kept me hypnotized, lost in my thoughts of what would happen now? Would he swoop down and save me, take me away like he unwittingly promises? Or will I be left to endure this frigid winter alone? Wounded. It was always push and pull with us. We were always an almost but never a yes, never a for sure, never a forever. I waited my whole life for him, and I feel like nothing but his back up plan, just his plan B. Nine on the dot. I guess plan A must have worked out. I stepped up onto the ledge, and I stared down at the city that was my entire life. My face was hot, the cold couldn't bother me now. Standing over the city felt calming, numbing even. He wasn't coming and I was done with this game that I've been losing. I wanted to keep this image of my beautiful city in my mind, a winter wonderland that never let me down. I took a deep breathe. I slowly turned my back to all the sounds of life and flickering lights. I closed my eyes and thought of all the times I felt like I was the only plan he ever wanted. Times that seemed like I was the only thing that could light up his world. The scent of his coat as he hugged me, that smile that said I love you and only you. Its now or never, this is it. It's the beginning, or the end. I let myself fall back into the cruel city, it was all slow motion but I could hear the wind rushing as gravity pulled me down. And there it was, that awaited sound that always drowned out the cries of the city. A loud call, but somehow soft as he said it, "..Hannah?"
It was him. He was late.