Tucked in the trees, it did not care when I showed up. I didn’t need the perfect seat nor spot to put said seat because, much to my surprise, every angle offered views. Its only requirement was darkness and was only enhanced by silence.
But it wasn’t the unpredicted beauty of the location that had me lying in bed staring at the ceiling long after I returned home; it was the realization of how much I enjoyed it. How much I wish someone would have been there to hold my hand and look at me the way I looked at the trees.
Despite my current aloneness, I wasn’t lonely there. Instead, an incipient flame of hope lit within me. Hope that maybe—just maybe—there’s a chance I’ll make it through this season after all.
But with that hope came a dark cloud of doubt at how lasting my wonder will be. Was I only amazed because my sadness needed something beautiful, or will I look at the floats from my familiar spot along Main Street next year and dream of standing between glowing trees?
It’s hard for me to imagine a season that ends in me feeling fulfilled without a parade, but even more so, to imagine never seeing these trees again.
I read once it’s the forsaken who have the biggest room for growth. If true, this season without everything I love may prove the perfect time for a spurt.
November 14th
Hollis
Jay
Tomorrow at 6:30. We’ll be inside. We can ride together?
Marv
ghijkljkl dpqrghituvde defmnopqr pqrsadefdetwxy
Jay
Suit yourself. Hollis? Want me to pick you up?
Hollis
Depends. Will there be a wagon?
Jay
Guess you’ll have to send me your address and wait and see.
Hollis
I like surprises.
Jay
I like surprising.
Hollis
Explains the hat.
Jay
I think you like the hat.
Hollis
I think you want me to like the hat.
Marv
apqrde wxymnotu twmno pqrsdewxtghimng
