tupelo honey

My coffee tastes a little sweeter and smoother this morning though I didn't make it any differently than usual.  I did however, get to drink it in my window for the first time in months.  Is it really only early February?  .....fresh mild air and the warmth of the sun on my cheek.  It's the first real warmth I've felt in months., not the electronic warmth of my blanket or the gas powered warmth of my car heat.  There are only two perfect heat sources in this world, the sun and human touch. 

Gotta love the city where the trees aren't quite bare in the winter.  The tree outside my kitchen window is sporting a variety of plastic bags today.  A tan Wawa bag, a small plain white one, and a shredded food delivery bag.  They're making a nice rustling accompaniment to the gulls flying over the Yarn Mill. 

As if to bring me back to reality, I randomly remember the plastic dog food bowls in the cabinet to my left.  Gray bowls with little white paw prints around the outside edge.  I've nearly forgotten that that was this apartment just over a year ago.  I feel a slight breeze and the sun pokes my cheek and I smile at the dog bowls hidden in the back of the cabinet. 

My mind quickly drifts to an early October bonfire... hotdogs, bud light, s'mores, and more stars than I've seen in a very long time....

I think I really liked this last one.  Though I've already put that all in past tense, I'm not completely giving up.  I'm not waiting around either.  Life will take me where it wants to take me.  And I'll continue the search for the fine line between fighting for what I believe and walking away from a lost cause. 

My heart lets out a maniacal little chuckle and tricks me into going to youtube and playing a certain song.  I curse myself and listen a second time.  Shitballz!  *splat*  That's the worst part about music, it breathes life into fantasies, it calls back the memories of making out in the dark by my car at the end of the night, it reinforces hope that may no longer exist.  I'll gladly live in that particular 3 minutes and 31 seconds with my second cup of coffee and the realization that allowing myself this partial little fall was the best thing I could have done for myself, even if it turns out to be nothing more than a memory that smacks me like that last one, over morning coffee in my window sill.