9 Days of Winter

It was the last evening of us being together as I walked through the cobbled stoned streets of St. Albans on the way to your hotel, I suddenly felt a rush of melancholia slithering through my system. I began to imprint everything in my mind; countless walks we've had together, hands warming each other tucked underneath the pocket of my coat. The bright christmas lights effervescence in your eyes as they sparkled with joy and fondness. Cheeks blooming bright flushes of red and pink as the cold wind grazed our skin. I kept walking, looking around, soaking in the memories we've had through these old historic streets. Conversations we've had that led us to endless laughter and relatable life stories. I could still feel the weight of your hand against mine as I walked us through the crowds because you walked slower than I did, a Londoner, used to the hustle and bustle of this busy life. I've realised that 9 days of winter with you have slowed my life down a little. Appreciating the world we both live in, I was drenched with grateful discoveries. Flashes of gold, silver and purple lights throbbing against bricked walls -- I never used to witness these, but you've made me. 9 days seemed so slow, which was great because I wanted more time with you. Suddenly, the world paused for a few days.

Keys. Ah, it seemed I have lost the keys you've lended me to your hotel. Making my way to the reception and asking for a new spare key, the receptionist asked, "which room?", "233", "surname?" , "Raymond". It's strange but incredible having a part of you with me wherever. Saying your surname to gain access to our sweet haven, it felt surreal. Like I've finally found another half of me that felt whole and wildly jubilant. And so I made my way up reminiscing the nights we've kissed in the elevator, smitten and radiant. The hotel hallways in which we've chuckled and laughed the night away. Then came to view the entrance of your room. Dim yellow lights, Dior perfume and mixed floral scents. My heart ached. I will miss all these.... Walking to the bathroom where you looked at me, fingertips caressing my features whilst you apply colours on my cheeks on our first day, I rested my back on the door frame, locking slivers of memories inside my mind like those sands you grab to store in your bottles to remember the beach you've visited when you were young. But whichever lobe I store our memories in, I didn't care as long as I could remember. If I'd have to trade one part of my lobe and suddenly forget fragments of my past, I would keep ours, for there is nothing more worth keeping than the souvenirs of your love. Where the wide and tall glassed windows stood, the church far ahead caught my eyes. Christmas lights once again covering the streets, I sat down and hugged my knees. I questioned why it's hard for people like us who surely wouldn't hurt each other to love like this? Why must distance prevail? But then I remembered what you said, "test of faith."

"Don't forget me." you said whilst I was walking beside you, rain trickling atop the umbrella we were both under. And I simply shook my head. "Never." Because I remember everything. More than a lot, actually. 9 days of winter I saw the child in you. It took 9 days for me to envision a future; complicated, warm, spectacular and homely. It also took me 9 days to discover how beautiful one's soul could be. That sparkle and wonderful soul needing to be healed and grazed with tender affection. I saw through the cracks and crevices of your soul where the light have been kept for so long, afraid to let your uniqueness blind this world we live in. I have witnessed your light, but it wasn't blinding. In fact, I can see the world much clearer now in your eyes. I've taken you to these places and streets because words and touch could only do so much. I wanted places to remember you by, places where I can whisper your name quietly to myself and feel profusely loved . And finally, as I walk through these streets again alone, I'll remember your head on my shoulder and the warmth to keep me stable on these winter days.

Until we meet again, perhaps this time - 9 days of summer.