The snow just keeps coming, it lays heavy on the ground and slowly freezes into ice as the hours go by. I sit beside the window and stare out. More snow falls and settles atop the old. Day by day the thickness outside the front door grows. I just sit and stare.
Sometimes I sleep. I didn’t used to sleep so well, I told my therapist and now I take little pink pills. My nightmares still come each night but I can no longer escape them with a jolt and wake myself up.
I just sleep.
Dawn breaks and I’m fast asleep, the cold winter sun reaches its highest point in the sky and still I slumber. Eventually I wake. I see maybe two hours of daylight before the sun sets and the moon rises. I sit beside the window and the snow falls on, long into the night.
I think of my old friend as I watch white fall on white. He died, killed himself. I don’t feel sorry for him any more. Instead, I feel angry.
I still miss him just the same. Only now when I see his ghost, I don’t talk to him. He hurt me.
I don’t want to take these pills anymore, I don’t want to sleep away the days, I don’t want to feel empty and unfulfilled.
I miss people. I miss what the world was to me when I was a kid. It was an adventure, an experience, a place full of possibilities.
Now, it’s just four walls, falling snow, and wasted days.