The storms are coming in one after the other, battering the streets with rain, making it almost necessary to bring a jacket and an umbrella everyday. The skies are filled with gloom and almost a constant grayness, a color that I seem to have forgotten during the past few weeks.
Inside, there is an enormous beam of sunlight thawing the coldness inside me. I have found the flames once more, scorching and bright. My eyes no longer see in monochrome. The colors are blooming once more, and the light is a welcome relief from my uncertain and unending darkness that I have built.
The food tastes much more better when I eat, the leaves slowly growing in my trees. Scents of sweetness are familiar once more, the odorless world slowly turning fragrant. Have I lived in the solitude far too long? Maybe. But certainly, this chain of changes in the seasons have once more taken place inside me, and my soul welcomes that more than anything.
I have never taken such pleasure in walking in a long time. My feet no longer feel the ache when walking such distances. I may sweat just as much, but my body finds solace in treading such familiar paths.
The bleeding has stopped. Open wounds have healed and left scars, but it is not the scarring that matters. They have been cured. Summer in the cold rain, once impossible, is here. No more falling leaves. No more empty palms and the fake plastic trees come to life. I am high, but not dry.
War never changes, in the real world. But in my little, cornered and windowed world, nothing else matters but this – a brief, borrowed existence that will always last forever.
There is only one road to take for me. The point from B to A. I’m ignoring the highway speed limits, and the road signs. This is the blessed broken road, pointed to by the northern stars…
And I welcome it all.