Listen to the Music

Fire and the Flood

I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck, the white cotton warming my skin, as I walked down that street. It was freezing and I put my hands in the pockets of my red jacket, over a black shirt and my jeans, with black boots on my feet. My hair was tied in a bun on top of my head and it bounced as I walked, the cold wind biting at my face, turning me red. 

I looked up and saw him, freezing me in my tracks. He seemed to be everywhere I went. Everywhere I could possibly go, he was there. It was driving me crazy. It's hard to avoid someone when your subconscious always leads you to them. Anywhere I go, there he was.

It was getting easy now. Waking up without him by my side every morning. His side of the bed left icy cold, just like the absence he left. But in my dreams, I always went to him. Always. There he was.

He was the fire and the flood, always coursing through me. Never leaving. And he never would. Those icy blue eyes, just the feeling I'd been left with once it was over. Everything was fine when his hand was always next to mine, when he was always next to me. He was the fire and the flood. Burning and then consuming.

When we met, my step became lighter, my world became brighter. And even when he went away, I still felt him on my skin, in my heart. It was an addictive feeling. He was still there, still with me. When it was late at night and we lay side by side. He couldn't sleep, and I lay beside him, counting sheep. He was there, even if I wasn't.

He was always in my blood, always running through me. He warmed me with his fire, but then froze me with his flood. I remember his hand twisting in mine, squeezing mine in comfort. It always sent my heart racing, but calmed my pulse at the same time. He was a complete paradox.

"Now listen here," he said that last night. "Girl, when you know, you'll know."

And now I know.

I snap back to the present, to the cold street, to his gaze set on mine. I walk past him as fast as possible, not looking back. As I pass him, the fire burns through me, the urge to meet his fire head on. But I couldn't, I cant. Then comes the flood, crushing down on me, the pressure breaking me down. Keep walking. His hand lightly touched mine as I passed, but I kept going. Don't look back. 

He was the fire and the flood.