My very first snow...
Friday, February 10, 2017
Imagine my life was based on the pursuit of a white Christmas.
I remember I used to always say, ‘she who loves the sun
loses herself dancing in the rain’. A friend used to tell me the the light
loves me, but these tanning has got to stop for they cover my skin. A Façade my
flaws I’d say. But still, I hated looking pale. I have always wanted to glow a
little. That brownish shade would blend so well, I feel healthier, sometimes I dare
to be sexier under my bare body.
When it rains, I’d go mellow. Somethings about rain puts you
in a different place and time. A search for a meaning, and when it pours, it
would pierce through my soul and lonelier tunes, or a maybe a more alternative
rock or Brit pop. I feel different all the times.
I chase the snow. For
many years I’ve always wondered if it did, and if it was a white Christmas,
would it be then a perfect dream come true.
And here I am, for the third time in the UK. Sitting in this
grey sofa, looking out of the window where Stephen and Jo are working away and
on their phones, but I’m sure deep down inside they must be so so gutted. It is
snowing. The cars outside are covered with the white ice and frozen bits on
their roofs. This is beautiful. The feeling is beautiful, it is white, but I feel
so black from the inside. Something is cutting through me.
I am back here for the wrong reason of course. We had better
days. We always did. And when the very first mists forming into solid white
flakes landing on my skin, the shapes were exactly how you’d see in your
emojis. I never know they are what they are. I didn’t know what to do. But just
sit and stare.
I can make this experience of seeing snow for the first time
in life so simple and effortless. But yet, here I am making these words about
how I feel and how this current situation has put me in one of the most
difficult time of my life.
I teared up last time seeing the lighter mist falling down
at the hospital. I cried as I couldn’t hold myself up any strength after seeing
Stephen’s mum in her state. A combination of the cold, the heat in the
hospital, exhaustion of travelling for 19 hours non-stop, and my emotions had
their way to get to me. I needed a cry. And I miss my mum, I miss knowing how I
can control the wheel and drive. But I was very weak. The fronting did not work
anymore. I cried.
And then I slept. And there it was, when I arose at 6 in the
morning, snow was falling and everything I had been wishing for – after two
failed and very-closely-missed White Christmas passed, it was all happening
right in front of me.
It feels almost like, when you keep running, searching high
and lows for that one thing you have been wanting, and even though you’d have
had missed it, you keep your hopes up high. You never give up. You keep waiting
and you keep searching. You think this to the definition of happiness. But
life, because it is funny and its tricks aren’t always the best, when it decides
to throw and give you that one thing, it chooses the most unexpected time and place
to happen.
I thought I was so happy when I saw it I broke into tears. I
asked myself maybe I was just really sad and I couldn’t go on anymore, and
perhaps the snow was the breaking point for me. It was what I needed, for me to
finally feel and let go. I think that was why I had to be back here – maybe third
time is really a charm – may not be the real reason to celebrate, but I needed
to feel this, I was meant to get this revelation. It may not be clear sky, no
sun, no rains, but this is it. The beauty of all of this is the dance of these
little cottons-looking-like bits and pieces right outside the window.
Maybe I will join them now. I want to feel it on my face. I want
to let them touch my tongue. Let them fall on my hair. Let them freeze my heart
and then set it on fire.
Please get better.
Please get home.
We all need to be home.
Matlock, England, 10:15am, 10 February 2017.
