Before the rain came, I wandered outside, pulling stray weeds, and assessing the state of things as spring is so very slowly beginning to show her face. I walked through The Graveyard to the north of the house, named for reasons I barely remember, none of which include death. I thought of friends I missed, and I thought of past loves who still sometimes demand tears whenever I remember who we used to be.

Sometimes I wonder if I ever knew how to love.

It was pretty outside, before the storm. Now it is dim and grey and I’m curled into the corner of the couch watching heavy clouds which are not moving. They hang thickly in the sky, as I consider them through the tall windows.