February

It was almost March.

The tired snow lay in patches on the yellowed grass of the yard. Another Chinook wind had decided to drop by, melting the pure whiteness that had been there just yesterday. Change. Everything was always changing.

I felt a teardrop overbalance, and slide it way out of my eye and down the side of my face. I felt compelled to scream in frustration, lash out with angry words at someone... all typical of the person I was becoming. Selfish and unreasonable. Rebellious? Maybe. No, hardly. How many times in the near past had I almost lost control of this monster, yet somehow managed to stop it's sharp, puncturing words from leaking out my treacherous mouth? How could I possibly be rebellious?

It's so hard: torn between what I was, and what I was threatening to become, this darkness rising up, trying to overwhelm me. Or at least the part of me that refuses to submit, the part that still cares.

Was it a hopeless battle? There were so many different attackers... the monster, the pain that it caused in others that reflected back onto me, the pain everywhere...

Pathos will be the end of you...

'Shut up!' I thought furiously. There was laughter in return.

Look, I'm rubbing off on you.

The tears trickled down unchecked and unnoticed as I desperately suppressed the taunting voice, desperately tried to concentrate on something else. I turned and looked out the window again. A thought came to me. Spring will come soon.

It was almost March of another pained existence, but there was hope, if only I could hold on...