The Beginning

I remember a snowman.
I remember a soft snowball hitting my giggiling face.
I remember lying side by side watching snow fall onto our tongues.

I remember the awkward of summer.
I remember swinging barefoot
to the sound of sprinkelers
as I searched for something to say.

I remember the driveway where I first counted the stars,
the trampoline where I first heard the forbidden sounds of spring.

I remember meeting "that new boy".
I remember meeting his gaze.
I remember feeling in love,
detached from the reverie of my childhood.
I remember being dead wrong.

I remember following.
I remember the sleepovers,
the parties, the childhood innocence
that killed me.

I remember pushing you away.
I remember giving up to a girl so much less than me.
I remember being "the other woman"
the one left behind.

I forgot how to smile,
how to carry my walkman while riding a scooter.
I forgot independence
as difference was replaced by acceptance.
I forgot how to open up and tell the truth.
I forgot you.

Five years later here I sit,
snow falling around me.
This snow doesn't display footprints or sled tracks.
It lay undisturbed,
a wave refusing to crash.

Five years later here I am;
quite unlike how I was then.
Now I'm alone.

The sleepovers have stopped;
my old friends have given up.
How could you try with someone who refuses
to let go of the past.

Five years later he will never again love me.
Even the best of personalities
cannot beat a cheerleader.
After all my doors have shut,
I can't help but look back to where it all began.

Now I can't help but look at your window,
wondering if you're watching the snow.
Wondering if it brings your thoughts to me.