Pixels

My boyfriend builds castles with pixels and code. I create graveyards out of ink and letters. The wind gently blows my hair out of my face while my ears begin to sting painfully from the cold. I am rushing home to the warmth of my home. I’ve grown sluggish from the weight of this winter season sadness. It comes and goes like the tide. This snowless winter has jumped from January into February. Almost silently, the first month of the year has already slipped by. A thief has stolen the beginning and all my new year’s resolutions. They all flew out of the window with the passing of this first month.

Lately, I keep wondering what exactly it is that is making me so sad. Have these complicated tangled knots of life finally gotten a hold on me too? Nobody ever asks to grow up and become part of the big machine. I was born, grew up, studied and got a job like everyone around me did. And now I am part of this big hive with all the worker bees. All in constant motion, all with their daily tasks to fulfill. Endlessly slaving towards a goal that is never reached.

Nothing dramatic is going on in my life at the moment, so why do I feel like this? I stare at the pixels on my screen, all working together to form an ever-changing screen filled with wonderful things. Is there a hive in here too? Do I feel like this because I miss you? Because I’m no longer happy with my job? Or am I just over complicating everything in my head? It’s an anxious kind of restlessness that creeps up on me. And there’s a change in the air that I can almost taste. Sweet like honey.

The bedroom doors open and the light, combined with your porcelain naked torso, blinds me. I must have fallen asleep on the bed as soon as I came home. I am still wearing my dirty work clothes. A grin appears on your face as you find mine. You pick me up like an expensive silk scarf and throw me around your neck. You declare that I’m your favorite and that I shouldn’t look so sad. ‘Have you been kind to yourself today?’, you ask as you furrow your brows. ‘I’m trying’, I respond to you. ‘Trying is good. Good enough for today’.

I take off my wings and hang them back in the closet. The work is done for today. It’s your presence that makes my worries melt away like snow in the sun. But it doesn’t stop the worries from constantly returning to tease me. Perhaps I will add some honey to my tea this evening. Life could be sweeter.