Lady Trewlany

Hong Kong

a collection of scattered pieces that somehow fit together perfectly
in search of a great perhaps

Message from Writer

i miss everything that i've never had, and that's why i write. i write my story as it is today and as i want it to be tomorrow. there is always truth in my words.

The First Winter

February 8, 2020


New York, New York
Only the bright lights from every vessel of advertisement warm the the streets, and illuminate crushed black velvet skies. The day hides behind a billboard in Manhattan, sleeping, resting for a moment. Or an eternity for the middle-aged man huddled on the concrete steps, shivering even in his thick winter coat. Maybe he shivers of grief, or fear or purley from the cold. I’ll never know. 
Taxi exhaust fills the air, as the yellow bullets speed by, with drivers inside complaining about Uber and how no one takes the cab anymore. It’s raining, hard enough that it’s drumming on the silicone sheets covering construction sights echoes in my ears. A brown paper bag is blown about in the wind before finally attaching itself to the wheel of a car. It never has the opportunity to rest, passing famous attractions, the same people dressed in black and grey, their umbrellas much too big for one. Almost as if they keep it that way in hopes that some restless soul will join them on their fast paced walk towards home. 
I stop for a moment, wishing that time too would halt with me, and I would never have to leave this moment. I feel like I’ll never have enough time to take it all in, that even if I sat on the steps of this museum for the rest of my life I would still find things to notice. I try to commit this moment to memory, feeling the way my heart races, and I breathe a little deeper, and I feel more awake somehow.
It hasn’t been long since I left, only a matter of a months. Sometimes I think about the world I used to live in, and how small it seems now. This place, this beautiful place, seems like it’s in a different dimension from my old life. I think about everything I left behind, all the people I loved, wondering if I ever said enough to let them know how much they did for me.
But I know that miles away, they are going about their lives, just as I am going about mine. Our time together was short lived, and only a passing phase, where we all tried to seek a greater future instead of focusing on the moment. I do miss them, but I also don’t feel a huge desire to seek them out. We were in each other’s lives for an important fragment of time, and we must pass with the wind, moving on to new beginnings. 
In New York, there is always a song, a traffic jam, a place to eat, a home to wallow, an asylum for those who dare to dream. 
Deerfield, Mass
    Wintry trees stand as ballet dancers poised to show the world their grace, strength showing in how they remain so still in the seasonal gusts. Now that the leaves have fallen, they are so proud, as if their silvery-brown skin was their glory all along. I lift my head into the wind, eyes open for this softly lit day.
    I see the earth of yesterday covered as white as any new page and the toddler in me rises as if armed with a rainbow of crayons, eager to set that right. Yet today, I’m happy to simply walk in the snow, create a few footprints of my own. I watch them tumble, those feathered crystals, their chaotic flight to form a blanket that could not be more uniform. Yet for some their destination is my hands, to alight upon these ungloved fingers and let my warmth be their spring melt. 
    I feel the cold creep into my shoes, regretting the fact that I refused to wear proper boots. But being this exposed to the elements leaves me feeling so alive, like I’m a part of something much bigger, a force a million times more powerful than me. I begin to run, feeling the wind against my face and breathing in the clean air, laughing for no reason whatsoever. 
    I fall into the snow, watching as the world comes alive with the rising of the warm sun. Not so long ago, I would wake up and see the cars rush by on the highway, smelling the dirty laundry from my roommate's hamper, and tasting the humidity in the air. I used to love that. 
But somewhere down the line, I began to dream of a more than minor life, of finding a place where I could be at peace. I remember a night when I was lying on the bathroom floor, my head still spinning in the aftermath of a panic attack. That night, I decided that whoever I was today, wasn’t worth fighting for. But the person who I would become, that was worth giving everything for. That’s the day I decided to try. 
    Now, I’m so grateful for that night. I’m so grateful for all the pain I had to endure to get here. I miss my old life sometimes, but this new one is full of such possibilities. Everything that once seemed daunting is now a few steps away. 
    In Deerfield there is always a fireplace, a mug of coffee, a tray of biscuits, an old book, and a place for wandering souls to find a home. 
Hong Kong, Hong Kong
    We sit in the stairs, our only place of safety from the world that whizzes by. My head rests on your shoulder and you gaze into the distance, those big eyes of yours containing such sadness. 
    I too, feel the weight of our parting, but I also have hope for the future. I know we will both dream big, and land far, and that we are capable of multitudes on our own. Together we grew, and apart we will continue to do so.
    “Love you” I whisper. 
    I stand, brushing your hand on the way up, feeling your fingers tingle in my palm, knowing I may never feel that again. 
    “Love you too” 
    “To New York” I say, smiling through the tears.
    “To Deerfield '' You say, a flame of desire lighting in your eyes.
    With those words, I turn and walk into the distance, wiping a single tear from my face. The future is bright, I think. 
After all, tomorrow is just another day. 


See History
  • February 8, 2020 - 8:19pm (Now Viewing)

Login or Signup to provide a comment.

1 Comment
  • Anne Blackwood

    I would love to see this expanded into a longer story because I can't get enough of your writing. I will never understand how you make words speak so loudly.

    25 days ago