Stories, Poems, and Dreams

Symbols (Unsent Letters #3)

Do you know something?
Every love I have ever lost has had a symbol.
Maybe I'm hopeless.
Maybe I'm a romantic.
Maybe I'm just a writer, trying to find some sort of rhyme or reason to the world.
Maybe it's all three, or none of them.
But every single special one had some sort of symbol that became a treasure to me.

There was Bee.
Oh, she was always so busy.
She chased her dreams with a fiery passion,
And with the way the moniker flowed with her own name,
It just stuck there.

There was Storm,
Or Nightshade,
Who always cried tears of thunder and lightning when he missed me.
Part of me wonders if he still thinks of me
When it rains
When it storms.
As for the Nightshade... that, I'm afraid, will have to be lost to time.

There was Dove.
Oh, my dear Dove.
A beacon of hope and light,
A creature of abounding love.
They took in my shattered heart,
And pieced me back together
So that now, I can feel again.
Beautiful, horrible pain, and wonderful, terrible love.

Ah, and who can forget the very first?!
The first symbol I fell in love with
Was the very moon I now lie under.
Oh, she was wonderful.
The way her hair framed her face made it seem as though she was a beam from the heavens of night.
I wonder if it is you, dear Moonlight, who is the reason I am still in love with the moon this very day.

I think - in fact, I nearly know - that you will not love me as I loved you.
As I think I am finding I once again love you.
But if you did - and oh, what a wonderful feeling that might be - if you did,
I think I know what your symbol might be.

Winter has always been hard for me.
Every winter, I seem to lose something.
This year, it was my heart.
Last year, it was my mother.
And the year before that... I'm afraid my memory fades.
But I know that I have lost.

And yet, when I brought this up with you,
You pointed something out to me.
Something I didn't remember until you did.
You reminded me of the beauty of a fresh snowfall, when the snow clings to the branches of trees.
Everything is still, smooth, and serene.

And as you pointed this out,
I felt something I have not felt in years.
The child within me stirred
And watched the snow with
Wonder,
Awe,
And for the first time in far too long,
Joy.

It snowed again tonight.
Where I was, there were no trees
So I feared the snowfall
But on my way home,
The branches hung low enough to caress my face,
To brush away my tears,
And the wind was so gentle, so tender,
It felt like it loved me again.
And there it was again - that sense of beautiful, quiet joy.

If you loved me,
Your symbol would be the frosted trees
That are slowly but surely
Teaching me
To once more
Love
The snow.