The Unbecoming

Traditions are hard to break, but I grow older and words get harder. Nonetheless this is a feeble attempt:  (do not forget that I am selfish and I am a liar)

JANUARY 

January is the Unbecoming, the more I know the more distance I feel - 

FEBRUARY

What is relief but unexpected joys, cold winds/late night that I have learnt to forget. There was snow and a couple, and there was me. I saw you a week after, it was very comforting (that's all I can say that you understand). Good news abound, I am glad. 

MARCH

Many small and painful wonders, although I wish it wouldn't stop. Forgetting then remembering is both a blessing and a curse, and then it starts: the Absence. 

APRIL/MAY/JUNE/JULY

Illness, fun, sun / summer, someone getting on a plane back from a faraway land and I no longer know. Art, lots and lots of art. 

AUGUST 

joie de vivre 

SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER

What is it that you seek that I seemingly have? 

NOVEMBER

I cradled your dead body in arms in a pool of sticky blood in the dead winter. I almost started crying. You weren't really dead, except that you were as good as dead. The glaciers stood still as heroic witnesses as I valiantly slayed your betrayal, I silenced the hollow gaps that ached of nostalgia and I savor the glory from this act of cowardice (but the only one that I know) 

DECEMBER

(what now) I wish: I was special, and that I stopped the car with the brakes and screamed at you for hiding, for being so elusive even as years past, when I first not-met you. For courage and your ignorance, so I can leave and if at once your life crystallizes into regret I will be heartless and fearless so that the last name you think of is mine and the only that you remember