Winter's Farewell

🇨​​🇭​​🇦​​🇵​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷 𝟐𝟐₂₂

The Sunday morning sun rose timidly, casting a pale golden light over the frost-dappled streets. Claire stirred awake to the faint sound of her family's voices drifting through the house. The chatter from the kitchen was warm and familiar, the kind of background noise that grounded her when life felt unstable.

For a moment, she lingered in bed, letting the comfort of home settle around her like a blanket. Then, with a deep breath, she swung her legs over the side and stood.

The wooden floor was cold under her feet as she padded to the kitchen, where her mother and Blair were busy preparing breakfast. Her dad sat at the table, flipping through the Sunday paper with a cup of coffee steaming beside him.

"Morning, sweetheart," her mom said, glancing up with a smile. "Toast or pancakes today?"

"Pancakes," Claire replied, returning the smile as she reached for a mug.

The kitchen smelled of syrup and butter as the family gathered around the table. It was a quiet morning, marked by soft laughter and the occasional clinking of silverware. Sophie was excitedly recounting a new art project she was starting, while their dad chimed in with teasing but encouraging remarks.

Claire found herself laughing along, the warmth of the moment momentarily easing the tension she had been carrying.

"You've been lost in thought all morning," Sophie said, narrowing her eyes playfully at Claire. "What's on your mind?"

Claire hesitated, her fork hovering over her plate. She could have shrugged it off, but instead, she decided to share a sliver of the truth.

"Just thinking about some friendships," she said lightly. "How they change over time."

Her mother gave her a knowing look. "That's natural, you know. People grow in different directions, and it can be hard to keep up sometimes."

"I know," Claire said softly.

Her dad chimed in, his tone gentle but firm. "The ones that matter, though? They find a way to stick around."

After breakfast, Claire retreated to her room. The sunlight streaming through the window was brighter now, chasing away the morning's frost. She sat at her desk, her journal open in front of her, and stared at the blank page.

The pen felt heavy in her hand as she began to write, her thoughts spilling out in messy, uneven lines.

"Why is it so hard to hold on to people? Or is it just me? Maybe I'm asking for too much—too much time, too much attention, too much... effort. But isn't that what friendship is supposed to be? Effort?"

She paused, tapping the pen against the edge of the desk, then continued.

"I don't want to lose Leevi, but it feels like I already have. And I don't know if it's because of something I did, or if this is just who we are now."

The words were raw, a reflection of the uncertainty she had been carrying. But writing them down made her feel lighter, as if acknowledging the weight of her emotions allowed her to set them aside, if only for a moment.

By early afternoon, Claire decided she needed to get out of the house again. Staying cooped up with her thoughts wasn't helping, and the crisp autumn air seemed inviting. She grabbed her coat and headed to the park, where the trees were still holding on to the last of their golden leaves.

The park was quiet, save for a few joggers and families enjoying the day. Claire found a bench near the duck pond and sat down, pulling her scarf tighter against the chill.

She let her eyes wander, taking in the gentle ripples of the water and the way the sunlight danced on its surface. It was peaceful here, a stark contrast to the chaos in her mind.