"Hourglass" -The Hush Sound
As we sift through the hour glass
We realize that an hours passed
And not a person here is innocent
Were both as guilty as a sin
It must have rained all through the night
The tires just couldn't grip right
So I took another long sip
And wiped away my chapped lips
This is how it ends
We believe every lie and say we're just friends
How long will it last
Before we scratch all the scripts and we rework the cast
As the hour met the minute hand
We kept racing through this foreign land
With no direction or a telephone
Together we were all alone
That's when the puzzle was finally pieced
We compromised until our bodies seized
To some we seem like colder creatures, well
We were warm until we went to hell
Cast the first stone
Lets pretend that we don't have a
Past the worst one
Forbid forget forget that you exist
I stood by the tracks in the cool morning air. It was overcast, looking as if it could rain at any moment. I looked down the tracks to where they disappeared into the woods, thinking how different this was than Union Station. I can't even compare stations, because there was no station where I was at. Just a small structure to protect those waiting for the train from the elements. I noticed a cardinal several yards away. In front of me, the broken body of a little sparrow lay on the pavement. Its feathers fluttered in the breeze. The rest of it was still.
This time going back to Chicago was very bittersweet. I had a good time with my family. I had been able to eat dinner with Sasha. Going home to Chicago wasn't appealing at the moment. There would be no one waiting for me. No one to welcome me back. Just the cooler Chicago air and the blasted wind. I had a lonely train ride ahead of me, and a lonely afternoon beyond that.
When the train arrived, I said goodbye to my dad and took my seat on the train. I quickly dismissed the thoughts of regret and doubt that assaulted me. I was only feeling so dismal at the moment because I was lonely. Staying in Chicago for the summer isn't a mistake! I have a job... and a few friends...
Then once again, as it does at the most unpredictable moments, the grief of my breakup washed over me. It came in a wave and covered me with its cold, bitter water. The force of it left my mind and heart battered. He would have been there to welcome me home. He would have always been there to welcome me home. He could have been my home. No matter where I went, he would always be with me or waiting for me when I returned. He would take me in his arms and spin me around, or would give me a long kiss. He was my future, my security, my hope. He was the consistency that I needed. When I went home and had a miserable time, he was there to talk me through it. If there was no one else in the city to pick me up at the train station he would have been there. When my time at Moody is done and my friends have all gone away, he would be there. When I go back to Indiana and don't have anyone but my family to visit, he would be there. And that security is gone. In the hole that Andrew left behind I see my weakness, my loneliness, my neediness, and I am devastated. I could pick up the phone and call him, and take him back at any moment, and he would do so gladly. I stare at my phone with longing, but I know that I can't. So I resign myself to my tears.
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