Events, months, season, holidays, years. Each one sliding by less influential each time.
The daylight ends so early now. Darkness chills the children as they walk off school busses.
Commuters rush in drizzle rain to the warmth and glow of home.

There is a place I dislike to go. My mind swirls with lonely thoughts. If I chat loud enough, I do not hear her.

I try to not hear winter breathing down my neck.

A year? Two? More? How long has this winter lasted? Why is she here again, so soon?

My children delight in the dark. “It’s almost Christmas! Mom, look!” breathless they point at the houses already lit with twinkle lights. I smile, aching for their joy. I hold them close, hoping by some tactile osmosis, their enthusiasm for life will soak in to my bones. I cling to them almost with unhealthy gulps. The very people who used to cause me such anguish, such uncertainty, are the very ones who seem to be saving me of myself. I curl up with them in their beds, listening to their breathing. I watch as they relax in to calm. I wonder if I will ever find that space again; the peace, warmth and hope that comes with innocence.

I reach out for familiarity. I find songs, blips of light from favorite scenes in movies, quotes in books. I revel in the colorful paintings my children proudly display for me. I work diligently to find the Happiness. And yet, here, in this space, the darkness is heavier than I expect. I try, I try, I try. And yet…