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Change

Before I knew him I would play the piano before bed and open the windows so that the eeriness of the still night air would be met by melody, and there would be no reminders of sadness in the night, for the music would leak happiness through the windows.
I would make peppermint tea and after finishing it I would press the half warm cup to my cheeks because it reminded me that not everything that is empty is cold.
While I was in love with him I would play piano note after piano note louder, even if there was no crescendo, and I would keep the windows closed because no matter how still or lonely the night air seemed to be, I was singing inside and I was happy, and that was all that mattered.
I would hold my full cup of peppermint tea to my cheek and smile because I knew what it was like to feel full and warm inside.
But then we were no longer together and I found myself walking past the piano with my head down
I had become so emotionally drained that I acted lazy
my mom would occasionally make me a cup of tea but I no longer had an appetite for anything except his love
And so not until I noticed the three-day-old cup of peppermint tea upon my dresser did I realize something rather important: that even though the tea was cold now, it could be warm again, so easily warm again.
And not until then did I understand that even though sometimes something may seem to be full, it may not be even the least bit warm,
and not until I opened the windows near the piano did I find that the silence of the night wasn't so sad after all, it was maybe even a little bit comforting to know that the silence I felt inside of me was not the only silence existing,
and it was nice to know that the quiet night does not always have to be sad or lonely or empty,sometimes it can even be full




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