Hazy Mornings

Let it be.

It’s over. All of it is done: The joy, the warmth, the tingles in your belly. It’s all Past now. Quit holding on to something that isn’t there.

Purge yourself of the past. Burn everything and let it all go. There is no value in those old things. There is only a reminder of the pain and sorrow that was left.

Yes, I’m writing to you, reader:

Let it be.
Let it be.
Let it be.

New Years

Hands grab at him as he makes his way through the wild crowd. They all dancing crazily to the upbeat music blaring through large speakers. Not a care in the world, their sweaty bodies begin to become more difficult to differentiate.

He continues to push through. The lights flash and flicker around him in a multitude of colours. His mind is a fog; his surroundings are hazy. In his hand is a small slip of paper, which acted as a ticket to get into the building. At least that’s what he was told.

He breaks through the last of the crowd and falls to the ground. A blast as his skull smacks the floor. Laughter escapes his mouth as he grabs for the closest thing to him: a pair of legs. Female, to be exact. So soft yet so strong.

He makes clings to them with all he’s got. Afraid of letting go. A cry for help escapes his lips followed by laughter. The female helps him up and leads him towards slim black couches nearby.

The music doesn’t seem so loud when he sits down. He runs his hands through his hair and then reaches for a glass on the table. So much for resolutions.> he thinks and throws his head back allowing whatever was in the cup to slide down his throat. He throws the cup into the crowd and shakes his head. Poison. Alcohol. Same thing.

He notices the female to his left, the one that had assisted him, watching him intently. He smiles and then the countdown begins. 10.

9. 8. With each second, he loses a bit of consciousness. 7. 6. Why did he even decide to come to the grimy club in the first place. 5. 4. He could have stayed home and had a peaceful lead into the new year. He could have invited his friends over. what friends? 3. The color drains from around him. Black and white fills in where the color had been. 2. He could have been safe and avoided this- this making a fool of himself, but it’s the new year, might as well introduce it with open arms… So much for change. 1.

HAPPY NEW YEARS!

He blacks out. Welcome new year.

Breakfast.

A warm aroma filled my nostrils and set them ablaze with passion. My senses were on edge. I was giddy with excitement. I remained still and let the heat wash over my body.

Revelation.

My mind began working towards figuring out where and what that scintillating scent was. I needed to be closer to it; needed to be wrapped up in that smell and partake in it’s delight. In me was released a monster that would not stop until the source of the aroma was found.

After some deduction, I figured it was probably coming from the kitchen. I pulled back my hefty sheets and placed my bare feet on the cold wooden floor. A shiver shot through me and my desire faltered.

Did I want to go out, away from my comfortable shelter of warmth, and satiate this yearning hunger brought on by one tiny whiff? The scent seemed shrink the longer I stayed amongst the coziness of my bed. I needed to make a decision.

Without a second thought, I stepped to the floor and, on tip-toes, sauntered out of the room and into the hall. It was empty. Only the aroma and I were in that apartment. No distractions.

Slowly, I made my way into the kitchen and found the source of the smell: A short stack of the most perfect pancakes I had ever seen. They were fluffy and a lovely golden brown. A slice of butter that was partially melted sat atop the stack. They were accompanied by a small note folded and tucked underneath the ceramic plate.

I pulled it out and read the paper. On it was written one word.

Enjoy.

Leaving.

It was morning. The bluest morning I’d ever seen. There were birds flitting about from tree to tree and the sound of cars honking several streets below filled the empty apartment.

The white walls echoed the silence in the room. The wooden floors, clean and full of nothing, reflected the vacancy of the room. I stood in the center taking everything in; one last look before I left the home I had grown to love.

The sunlight streamed in through the large blindless windows. Only one box was left. It was next to the door. In it was everything I dubbed important: my journal, my bible, a little trinket my mom had given me before her passing. In it was everything that I needed to remind me that I could do this. I could leave. I had to leave.

I didn’t want to leave. There were so many memories in this little apartment. That time Samantha chipped her tooth at my one (and only) cocktail party. Or there was that time Tomas stayed with me for a month, or should I say his entire family of six stayed with me for an entire month. That was fun and exhausting.

So many memories and there I was leaving them behind. I had no choice. When life called, I answered and this time it told me to leave. Actually it was more like I got a job across the country and my lease was up. So I answered and now I was leaving.

I was leaving. I grabbed the box by the door, turned and looked at the room one last time, and then left. Just like that. Ready to welcome in a new chapter of my life.

Hello, how do you do?