The gentle confetti danced before my eyes, as each twirl brought them lower to the ground. Greedy eyes plucked the splendor right out of the wintry air, and tenderly stowed them away in a locked chest within my heart, a chest with the word “treasures” whittled into the wood.
It seemed like only yesterday I had collected the fallen soldiers, piled them up into the crooks of my arms, and gave them shelter until, in their grief of parting and loss, they became brittle and devoid of all life. They never intended to stay, and I never promised they would.
Any remembrance of them was long gone as I stared through the window pane at the shivery, naked branches. The only memories rested in delicate pieces inside my treasure chest, and those were for me and me alone.
The time for mourning has passed. Now is a time for new love. For playful kisses on my cherry cheeks, kisses that are as sweet as they are icy, as sharp as they are tender. Sometimes they came one by one, and other times in a stream so thick, it was difficult to tell from where they came. All I knew was the swelling warmth of frivolity in my heart, as they swirled and tumbled all around me, lifting me up ever so slightly, if I so much as dared to believe.
They spent days plowing into my open arms, my laughter muffled by the woolen scarf wound around the bottom half of my head. Wherever I fell, they caught me, and angels took the place I left behind. I slipped and stumbled, eyes darting to uncover the watchful folk, and upon discovering none, went about slipping and stumbling delightedly.
I had not forgotten my broken comrades, though long gone. That’s what happens when you keep the best thoughts of them alive in your treasure chest. The memories nudge you in the ribcage, reminding you of their once rich and violent colors, now faded in muted shades of brown. They send whispers through your veins, and you know before you’re willing.
This love affair will never last.
Before I could understand, it all drifted away, like a lover who had seen my unpainted face and the rusted shield I had set at my feet, and has since taken on the new talent of somehow looking straight through me. So slow, it was unsuspecting. So unhurried, I never knew the race had started.
Today, a familiar friend has taken the place of the gentle dance before my eyes. Not as lovely as the other, but filled with solace and hope, washing away the things that came before.
Tomorrow, I will find yet another new love. New wonders hidden in the damp earth, ready to satiate my curious and eager heart.
Inspired by the weekly creative prompt from ArtStew52.