An authors hail and farewells

Snowfall

This one wasnt a person, not even the course of a story, for me, this one was special. It was a feeling hard to describe but I will try for you, it was crystal clear air, so cold that you could see your breathing like little clouds hanging in the air. It was the first sparkling snow, untouched and pure. Fresh and white light at 4 am and diamond rings. It was the first bite of a mint gum and the feeling when you dive so deep you can feel the water getting colder. It was heavy coats and the smell of an elegant perfume. It was the stance of high heels in the snow and water fountains with frozen statues on top. It was streetlight under which snowflakes fell so slow it looked like they danced in the air stopping in mid-air to finally sink on the ground as if they were layered there. It was a bitter sweet piano music or a violine played with so much desire and longing that I felt homesick for a place I had never been before, a place that probably didnt even exists. When I close my eyes, I see ancient balls in winter, breath-taking ballgown and slow dancing with someone you love and hate at the same time, the tragic goodbyes under streetlights where one of them have to leave, hugging the other whispering promises in their ear that they will come back. When the carriage leaves, the other stands under the streetlight, snow covering the top of their head and tears spilling down their cheeks. A bitter sweet love story in a winter setting, where no one can sort the way, they are supposed to feel.

I never got to make this in a story, believe me when I said I tried and tried, but for some reason, there was something I couldnt catch, it slipped through my fingers again and again like wet soap bars. I didnt know what I missed, not to that day, not to that time, not even now. I kept this vague feeling in place, never letting go of it, trying to get it back time to time, and get nostalgic by looking at certain things. I decided that it was time to let go. To let last winter be the last winter, to have room for new things in spring. Sometimes when I see snow, or hear a violin, I slip back, and I am in a winter forest, but I let got now. Hail and farewell bitter sweet feeling.

A/N: i am dead, emotionally dead, and mentally unstable, maybe there will be another one soon, because i jus get of a writers block...