a gray sky, a bitter sting.

Today is a gray and blustery sort of day. The radiant yellow leaves of a nearby tree provide a striking contrast to the achromatic, misty sky as I stare out the window across from my perch at the circulation desk. I draw my sweater in tighter as a light shower begins to fall outside, as if the library itself was experiencing the same chilly precipitation indoors. What a morning. I have spent the past three days sick in bed and, somehow, I mustered up the strength to trudge my way onto campus after a not-so-restful night. Being sick, truly sick, and alone for the first time in years has not been a pleasant experience. I remember all too well the grape-flavored beverages and forehead kisses of the not so distant past. I remember when being sick, or caring for a sick loved one, seemed less enervating because it was faced with a companion. I remember making AirBorne and hot tea with honey and grilled cheese and watching movies 'til we both fell asleep. I remember the unparalleled comfort and healing of another warm body in the bed. Now, the only one sharing my covers is an eye-less bear in a worn, red t-shirt who says about as much as you've said to me lately: not a word. It's just a sad day, I suppose. I know better than to feel sorry for myself, but knowing and feeling and doing are all quite different... Anyway, I did not really have anything to say today, so I apologize. In a little while I will take a walk out in the rain and sip some tea and listen to the Decemberists and all will suddenly feel right in the world again. For now, the forecast is just a bit of broken-heartedness. Better tomorrow, I promise.