Cold

The snow's been falling heavy, but right now there's a break. It's stopped, so I'm going outside. I feel like walking. The house is a prison, stuffy and dark. It's taken awhile, but I've learned that locking myself away hasn't protected me from the painful memories of you. I hope I can face the world.

The sky is gray, but the day's still bright with all the available light reflecting off the blanket of snow that covers the ground. I know this is the same path we'd once taken together, but the scenery is much different: cold, icy and dead. The leaves have fallen; the creek's frozen over, and the chilliness of the air makes my cheeks red. I know it wasn't always this way.

It was once summertime. The days were hot and long. Birds sang their joyous songs and the scent of wild honeysuckle kissed our noses while we walked hand-in-hand to the creek. You were staying with me a week, on break from the city. I had grown up here. We both were anxious to feel the cool, clean water on that humid afternoon.

The sun was bright overhead, but the wooded surroundings provided a canopy of leaves that kept us shaded. You were in awe of the beauty of this place, so green and vivid. Maybe I just hadn't appreciated it before or maybe you being next to me perfected the setting, but I, too, saw this place with new eyes. I'd been here many years, but never had this creek seemed as magical as it did when you were with me.

I slipped off my sandal to dip a toe in the crystal water and test the temperature. I noticed some tiny fish swimming in the shallows and pointed them out to you. You squatted down and tried to catch them in your cupped hands. I giggled when your attempts proved fruitless, and you splashed me.

I took off my shirt and hung it on a tree branch. Then I slowly walked into the water, immediately appreciating its cooling effect on my hot, sweaty body though it made my denim shorts heavy. I turned to see if you were following, but you stood on the shore looking a bit concerned. I couldn't tell if you were afraid of getting in the water or if you were nervous I'd be spotted topless, but I decided the best remedy for either situation was one big splash and a cheerful "Well, are you getting in or what?"

You took off your shirt and pants, leaving only your boxers on and joined me in the water. You laughed nervously and said you'd never done anything like this before. I hadn't neither. I've went swimming in this creek nearly every summer, but it was never like this before. It was never with you.

I took your hand and led you down the creek, deeper into the woods to my favorite part, the place where the water is a bit shallower and the sun breaks though the trees. It was difficult to walk because the water was flowing in the opposite direction, so occasionally you or I would fall. It was fun; we kept laughing and helping each other back up.

When we reached the sunny place, you understood why I loved it so. The abundance of sunlight allowed for wildflowers to bloom near the shore. Yellow buttercups and dandelions, white clover blossoms, purple bergamot and, of course, yellow and white honeysuckle decorated the shore and perfumed the air. Brilliant colored butterflies and dragonflies danced from flower to flower along with buzzing bees and even the occasional hummingbird. It was all very dreamlike and romantic.

We relaxed in the trickling water taking in the beauty of our surroundings and of our moment together. Schools of tiny fish would swim past and tickle our toes and startled frogs would hop from their hiding places when we made a sudden splash or laughed too loudly. On the shore, a pair of turtles relaxed in the sun. You said you felt like we were in an exotic rainforest not rural West Tennessee.

We talked for a long time about many things but avoided subject of what would become of us when you went back home. As much as we tried to keep it out of our minds for as long as possible, the sad inevitably was that you'd be returning tomorrow, and this moment, like the rest of the week we'd spent together, would be rendered just a memory that no one but the two of us would understand. We may retell our adventures to many people, but no amount of words would be descriptive enough to bring them to this place. Our time together would disappear with just you and I playing witness.

We weren't ready for it to end. We'd been waiting four years for this week, and it was heartbreaking to think of being apart, not knowing when or if we'd meet again. Every touch and kiss had this painful shadow over it reminding us it couldn't last. I'd cried about this in the hotel the night before. You held me to comfort me but started to cry as well.

Here in the creek though, those worries seemed a million miles away. In this moment we felt less insecure. It was as if no matter what happened, we'd find our way back into each other's arms again regardless of it took. Never would we permanently have to say goodbye.

You put your arms around me and kissed me passionately. It was the best kiss of the week, with everything internally and externally flawless. Your embrace was overpowering; I never wanted to leave your arms. I pressed my body against yours and sighed lovingly as you continued kissing and caressing. No one had ever activated such carnal desires and tender emotions in me simultaneously before. The feeling was brand new, and I was happy that you were the one to give this to me. With the sun warming us from above and the cool water surrounding and soothing us, we made love.

A cold breeze makes me shiver and brings me back to the present. The creek has lost its color; black, white and gray with the dreariness of winter. I look into the spot where I'd first seen the little fish, but now I only see my distorted reflection in the ice. It's hard to believe this is the same place.

It's been two years since our week together and nearly a month since you called to say that your life was changing and you could no longer give into youthful foolishness. We mustn't talk again you said. I am incompatible with your family, religion and life. You were as cold as this winter when I sobbed on the phone, telling me to move on and forget. I hadn't believed in heart break until I received that call nor did I believe you could hurt me so badly.

My tears feel uncomfortably cool on my face, so I wipe them away with my glove and turn to head home.

It's snowing again.