The First Snow Fall

There is something therapeutic about rain pattering against the windows while trees whistle in the wind. In the dead of night you're somehow comforted by the sound of the rain softly splashing against your rooftop. The hollow sound as they splatter onto your house is almost like music that can calm you in an instant.

However, the rain can also bring out the worst in you. Staring out of the window seeing tiny drops falling from the never ending sky, crashing onto the pavement making it impossible to go outside. You're claustrophobic, feeling as though you are being held hostage in your own house. The sky is dark which reflects in every puddle, making the outside look uninviting.

Even though the precipitation has it's negatives, I'm comforted as I stare at the ceiling, drowning in insomnia. Whenever I am most comfortable and relaxed, I somehow manage to think too much. That sense of comfort is replaced with isolation and discomfort. The relaxation fades into tension and fear.

It's Thanksgiving and I understand how the day is supposed to be spent giving thanks to those we love and care about. You sit around the dinner table, passing the mixture of concoctions you're afraid to try, and chatting about your future to relatives you rarely see. This Thanksgiving was different than the norm.

My brother just divorced his wife of a year so a place at the table was taken away in her absence. Although she and I were never close, she always stood by my side at family events since there aren't many cousins around my age. The only one is Shelly, who is a few days younger than my sister. They obviously hit it off and talk most of the time. So not having my ex-sister in law there was a little weird.

Sitting at dinner with my two cousins, my brother and sister, I realized how I am the only one in the family who is alone. Granite I am only eighteen but usually other girls my age are in relationships or have past experiences to share with friends. I on the other hand am not the average eighteen year old. I have had one real relationship that lasted less then two months when I was fifteen. For three years I have been alone, wondering why I am.

Don't mistake me for being ungrateful or self-conscious. I love myself and embrace who I am. I am grateful for all I have been given by my parents and siblings. However, I can't help but wonder why I am alone.

I write stories about love, read stories about love, see love happen, and hear of love happening. My parents, my sister and her boyfriend, my cousins and their significant others, my friends, etc. I wonder what is it like to experience what I write about, what I read, what I see, and what I hear. For one day I would love to know what it feels like to have someone want you in every way. For someone to only see you in a crowded room.

Does that make me selfish or inconsiderate?

Being alone doesn't scare me but I wish I knew what it was like to have someone love me in a sense of need. I've been alone for three years, going on four so it shouldn't be too hard carrying on with this trend, right?

After taking a break with writing, I notice the pattering on the roof has died off. The comfort of the rain has vanished and I'm left with the sounds of my imagination. I set my laptop aside and make my way to my window. I see sheets of white covering every inch of land.

The first snow fall of the season.

Even though I'm yearning to understand what it is like to not be alone, I can't help but smile at the beautiful sight. Flakes fall from the dark midnight sky and with a certain elegance land upon the ground, waiting to be joined by millions of other tiny flakes.

The sheets of diamonds continue to cover the ground, plants, and cars as I think about the next holiday. Christmas is another family oriented holiday where everyone seems to grow closer to their significant other.

When will it be my turn?

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.