Snowblind

There was so much between us.

The January snow started early and stayed late, piling up with the winter days. I trudged along the roadside every morning as best I could. I did my best to focus on the frozen tree branches that sparkled in the sun and the sound of the snow crunching under my feet. I did my best to forget about the stinging cold that hit my exposed skin like icy bullets. I watched the snowfall. It came lightly but steadily, billowing in the winter wind.

And of course there was a girl. I saw her across the street early one Wednesday morning, walking towards me. She was bundled up tightly in a sky blue coat and a matching hat that pressed heavily on her head. She walked with her arms crossed, hugging herself in a warm embrace. My mind drifted.

As she came into my life, I finally saw her eyes. They were an emerald green that stood out brightly from the white snow that fell between us. I could only see wisps of her hair descending down from her woollen hat – small strands of blonde that hung in front of her face. She stepped lightly, trying to fit her footsteps with the rapidly disappearing ones of the men who had walked the sidewalk earlier on.

A car passed us. Its tires made a scraping sound on the icy road, which was followed by the distinct whine of a sputtering engine. I watched as the driver jammed on his brakes, forcing the car to swerve back and forth. I watched as the car came to a skid, stopped, and in an instant, was mobile again. I watched through the exhaust fumes and falling snow as that girl in the blue jacket looked across the street at the car. And then, at me.

The snow picked up and an icy wind gripped me. I kept my eyes on her, and grabbed my own arms in an exaggerated motion, making a “brrrr” sound in my head. She smiled, she did, and I smiled too. It was an unassuming smile, both unplanned and uniquely sincere. Her mouth raised into soft dimples. I memorized that.

And then she turned and walked, the snow once more crunching under her boots. I let my arms drop from my sides, and continued on my own. The snow was denser now. Tiny flakes fell quickly. The world became a sea of white. The cold touched my spine and drove me to walk faster. I tilted my head upwards as I walked and remembered childhood games of catching snowflakes on my tongue. The snow hit my face. There were icicles on power lines. A snowflake caught my eyelash and stuck, and I stood still for a moment and watched it slowly melt into a false tear.

I thought of a stone fireplace stocked with real wood, burning brightly in the dark. A warm couch and her head in my lap. Her blue jacket wet from a day of making snow angels and tumbling down hillsides drying on the heater in the corner. She lets me stroke her hair. She makes quiet happy noises as she drifts between wakefulness and sleep. I can feel her smile against me.

But a bitter wind strikes once more. The snow made my face wet. I turned and watched the quiet sidewalk where she was. The snow fluttered and twirled in the wind. It danced in the breeze. My face hurt. I searched for pale blue: A gentle contrast in the snow. The wind was blowing me backwards. I fought against everything not to move. The snowflakes attacked my eyes and made me blind. All I could see was the continuing blankness of being and the small and fading footsteps of moments since gone.

There was so much between us.