A long December

When you can’t find the words, they are usually already written.

Because it’s been…

A long December and there’s reason to believe

Maybe this year will be better than the last.

It’s funny because this Counting Crows song played the last time I remember being seventeen and free. Remember when Steve and I sailed away at top speed into the fog? This song played then. I remember it so well. I remember seeing myself in December. I remember crying for my future self as it was July and I recognized the months ahead. However, I also remember being full. Full of so many feelings, including hope. Maybe this year will be better than the last.

Hopeful for that long December.

And here we are in December. 

The prophecy of these singing crows has turned true. It is a long December.

The smell of hospitals in winter

And the feeling that it’s all a lot of oysters, but no pearls

And it is a feeling like that. Lots of oysters, but luckily it is a muted one. Not one of daily depression. Rather it is like someone has muted the show. I can still watch, I can still understand, but it just doesn’t have any sound/ emotion. Days roll slowly in the repetitive hospital dance that has become our norm. The night hospital runs that used to be in full color now play in sepia just like an old film that has been watched over and over. The color-washed away from the projection light. And it’s the same film over and over. We just watch it go by. A predictable storyline where we all play our roles.

I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower,

Makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her

And this December comes with Scans. We have reason to believe that they will be better than the last, but one thing about a life muted, you don’t get your hopes up nor down. No tears, no laughter. Just there.  Just trying to wait out the long December.

We have scans on the 20th. Won’t have all results until right before Christmas. Makes the holiday season ring to a different tone.

So the wait makes it, long.

A long December and there’s reason to believe

Maybe this year will be better than the last

I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell my myself

To hold on to these moments as they pass

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