We sowed the threads of loving moments we
shared together into beautiful garments;

sweaters.
We swore to wear them when we see each other in the cold.
It’s winter when I meet you,
but you, you show up in a different cut,

different color.

That’s not our sweater.
I ask and you
tell me it’s new but you like it better.
It’s lighter, slightly brighter,

our sweater would quickly get too hot to wear.
You like the feel of icy wind, it reminds you of home.
I laugh because I never knew that to be true.
And I look into your estranged eyes,
instantly growing reminiscent of a flicker of fire that was once always present when I was with you.
When did it fade?

I thought it would remain lit.

Grow stronger,

brighter,

with me.
You go on to say love is heavy and you’re tired of carrying it around. You’re not the same.
I agree.
With tears forming, you turn your head over
your left shoulder

and wipe away your emotions.
You stare back at me,
eyes absent of any warmth.
Stripped bare.
In the solitude that followed, I felt a chill crawl up my spine and it was not caused by the winter weather. My thoughts kept trailing to the winters we weathered together.
Go on, darling.

I’ll make this easy on you.

Love isn’t heavy, it’s light liberation. Follow my lead.
 Our memories are not burdens. 
Don’t imagine I’ll be here when you change your mind, winter is not my season.
Embrace the chill blowing your way,
face it bear-chested,
chase it for a thrill. Our past is a shadow of something incredible and the sun is setting. It will soon all fade away.
I’ll hold on to the memories for the both of us.