give me even the autumn leaves

by rachel

everything is tense, i’m struggling to remember what i have been or could be, we’re struggling to remember and to be what we know we could. i don’t know how to find a way out, i don’t know which way is out, it’s harder trying to do this on my own but i think i need to recognise that we need to be able to do this on our own.

we were born in the summer heat.  that sticky, tropical glow, perspiration beading at our foreheads, staining the back of our shirts, lining our palms – this was not nervousness, only biology. we were born in our bid to catch the last traces of time, we fought the transience, we thought we won.

the seasons bleed into each other, i no longer remember what it feels like to be warm, to feel confident enough to walk outside without a coat in the knowledge that the world will not feel like an assault. even sunlight does not bring the same joy when it doesn’t know heat. the trees have been bare for so long, and i am waiting, waiting, waiting on the spring to come.

i don’t know whether to grit my teeth and pull it together (i don’t know if i can) or if i should reach out and ask for help. i’m finding it hard to see how anyone else could help, i’m trying to convince myself that i have what it takes to figure this out on my own, that i’m stronger than this, that i need to be able to do this. i know i need to give you the space to sort through yourself before you can come back to me again.

i miss so many people back home, i miss alysha, i miss regine, i miss jon, i miss my sister, i miss my parents. i just want the semester to be over so i can be home. i so dearly want to be home.