Winter is here

The winds have changed. Suddenly overnight winter has arrived. The strange tropical version of winter that only those lost too long on islands can imagine is a real proper shift in seasons. Only real Island dwellers can sense the now cooler windy mornings. The crisper clear nights. This subtle change that hints at the fact that we share the seasons and the hemisphere with Australia. Seasons shift, marking time. Time for jeans and extra blankets. Seasons change. Everything does. 

Just days ago I kissed you and said goodbye. You kissing me hard and hugging me bigger than you ever have. Lifting my feet off the ground as the driver patiently waited while precariously parked on the sharp part in the road. Just last week you had asked me how I felt about you leaving and never coming back. But then today you carefully spilled out honestly tender words that resembled uncooked meat, raw and difficult to handle. As we held eachother under the shadow of your mosquito net, you said I had come to be important to you too, as you to me. Sweet words of goodbye. Not coming back, going to vietnam instead. This was all code. Code for away, gone, departed, us no longer.

Our season finished. The hot season is over and now we are ushering in the cold season. 

The cold season is allready here and you are now allready gone but I have yet to find a way to wash you from me. Wash you off my skin and out of my mouth. I need hot water to pour over me till my heart no longer sheepishly leaks out a thick feeling of want. I need to stand in the rain and let it wash your smell out of my hair. I need to let ocean waves crash over me till I no longer hear your voice or imagine your brown eyes and curly hair and smell your sweet skin.

Wash it off of me damn it. Its cold and you are gone, but I am left behind with not enough sweatshirts and a feeling of want.

I know that your love can not ever be enough to subside my ache. I know this. I know that you will never do the things that make me feel cared for enough. Not enought to want my eggs to drop willingly, like ripe fruit falling and then planting your seeds by burying themselves down deep in my womb. I know that I will never feel you search out and grab that spot hidden inside my chest that contains all of the love that I hold. I know that you will never take a deep warm breath and sqeeze it tight. I know that you will never come so far into me that for moments I loose where you end and I begin. I know you won't do these things. I know instead that you will always only maintain a slight distance that allows for a safe passage. I know these things. I know that trying to make you increase your emotional proximity as you deny me will only give this ache inside my chest permission to knaw away at my soft snuggly edges, till what is left begins to question its worth. I know this like I know the contour of my hand, the shape of a circle or the sound of rain. I know this for sure, but I still can't wash you off of me. I also have now seen your dark side, irrational and scolding even with the dropback of clear tropical waters this angry man startled me. This is surely not someone I should forever attatch myself to. My brain knows this but my heart constantly betrays me with blind willingness. I can't wash you from me. 

At the moment all I can hope or imagine to be true is that some yet unknown human has the magical power to take you off my skin. May this person waste no time in bursting forth from hidden trap doors standing tall and strong and smother me with so many kisses that your spell is vanquished. May it be so.