sometime last spring

he ran his fingers through her hair as she talked, her head on a pillow, the pillow on his lap.

he sat there on the couch and listened. it was late (or was it early?), and he was dozing off, but he fought the urge to give in. as she unveiled her anxieties, he told her she shouldn't worry so much about what other people were thinking. he wanted to keep running his hand across her head and to tell her that everything would be fine -- but honestly, he himself was unsure that it would be. in the back of his mind, he was hoping she'd get tired because, well, he was exhausted, and wouldn't have been opposed to laying there and falling asleep with her.

but that was months ago. and still to this day he finds himself wondering whether or not he knows for sure what love is. but if it's noticing that the only thing he wanted at the moment was for her to cease even the slightest bit of suffering as he witnessed her innermost thoughts; if it's wanting to hold on to the point in time where, though he hadn't known her for even a fraction of a percent of the time she's spent on this Earth, his very presence was enough to make her happy and forget about how awful she felt for most of it; if it's realizing that he wouldn't hesitate to trade his own life simply for a promise that she'd never desecrate herself ever again -- then he just very well might have fallen for her that night.

and as the bitter cold of autumn's dusk engulfs him, he stands on his porch, looking past the fallen clutter of amber and frozen statues of brown, up at the sky. he's reminded of spring's slightly less bitter dawn; he's reminded of the stockings she wore and her skirt swaying gently in the breeze; of her anxious words and erratic, single-sided discourse; of her longing eyes hidden behind glass and her stirring soul trapped beneath those eyes that were once exposed to him -- will he ever see her again? he finally surrenders to autumn's brutal warnings and retreats inside, deceased bits of flora in tow, seeking refuge from the violent storm to come...