A Piece For The Cloudy Days

The Thursday clouds hang a melancholy grey in the air. I’m sad this morning. Sad for reasons I don’t quite understand. I slept through both alarms, woke with the sun shoving her way through my window and the planes soaring through the sky, demanding to be heard.

This isn’t like me, to be so out of touch with the natural rhythm of sleep and wake. This isn’t like me to watch the drizzle from my balcony, feeling the earth’s tears as my own.

Last night I went to a concert, an Australian singer and musician whose soul danced across the stage. I’ve always loved music for the way it binds strangers, for how we are all unified in sound and voice, throwing our hands in the air and swaying our hips to the same beat. The singer’s passion was tangible, filling that crowded space with her laughter, the notes from her guitar echoing off the walls. I felt her love, her energy absorbing into my skin.

Music has the power to draw us away—and in that moment I was with her, everything else melting, disappearing. I could feel my man’s arms around me, could feel the hum of the chords mixing with our steady heartbeats, could feel my body relax as I learned into my boyfriend’s chest. I closed my eyes, letting the music move me. All I needed was right here.

And perhaps this was all too much—the vibrations of last night pulsing in my soul, the love that was so present I could feel the sensation through my every cell, the joy and warmth in contrast to the sudden jolt of sleeping far too late, of waking up in arms that had to leave me, in to-do lists and responsibilities miles too long. Perhaps the ups and then the sudden downs have left me with a hole to fill.

I watch another airplane find its way through the foggy sky. The sky looks tired to me. Even the birds are quieter, squawking at one another in a distant tree, just outside my view.

I want to shake myself out of this heaviness, drift to where I was last night, existing in what felt like an endless rhythm of strum and beat. I want to return to my man’s hands on my skin, him leaning forward to kiss the back of my head with a tenderness so intimate I almost pulled away. I want to find my way back to the music, to the healing, and exist there, letting this grayness fade away.

Featured Image Credit: Brennan Barrows