First Snow - 1. First Snow

The sidewalk pushed back against the soles of my feet as I strode purposefully down the street. The whipping wind stole moisture from my delicate lips, leaving fissures in their surfaces, as I tugged at the beanie perched atop of my head, attempting to shield my ears from the brutal cold.

***

“Mommy. Daddy. Look! It’s snowing,” I yelled, jumping up and down.

I perched atop the armrest of the leather armchair and peered out the large windows. I watched as the delicate flakes floated to the ground, disappearing amongst the dirt. Tracing the trajectory of a single flake as it fell with my eyes, it got lost among the dozens as they flicked and twirled in the wind.

A large beanie slipped over my eyes, someone tugging it securely over my head.

I wrestled with the unseen forces, giggling and chuckling. As the beautiful face came into view, she planted a kiss on the top of my forehead. She handed me a pair of woolly mittens that I slipped onto my pudgy little fingers.

I pulled on my tiny snow boots and hobbled one foot at a time to the front door. I shrugged on my thick coat and pulled open the door. A winter-wonderland lay before me. I threw myself onto the ground as the flurries continued to flutter in the air. Laughter bubbled and filled the cold air with a warmth only a child could emanate.

***

“How are you?” she asked, concern filling her eyes.

“I’m doing better these days,” I replied.

“There’s nothing wrong with feeling this way you know,” she said.

“I know,” I replied, mechanically.

I lay my head down on the wilting grass and stared up into the grey skies.

The pounding in my chest magnified as my name left his lips in short huffs of air. Blood raced through my veins as I stammered out a reply. His fingers combed through his tousled hair as I followed the strand of hair succumb to his touch, easing back against his head. The fingers passed through his hair, gravity pulling them back to the ground.

I looked away.

The clouds continued to drift along with the chilly wind. The silence pulsed through the long fallen leaves, trees stark naked.

I leaned into the space between us. My hand fumbled through the strands of hair, grasping tentatively at the warm skin. I closed my eyes as our lips touched lightly. I waited for the much-written-about, much-spoken-about, much-imagined spark. I waited for the fireworks to explode and my body to relax.

She pulled back and looked at me. I looked away.

The clouds continued to drift along. The wind ceased.

My reflection stood before me: deep eyes, creased forehead and a weighted frown.

“I’m gay,” I whispered.

The grey sky stared sympathetically back as I gazed endlessly into the distance. A cold droplet formed against my heated skin. A second droplet followed, then a third. The flakes fell and burrowed themselves in the warmth of the ground. I pressed my back against the earth, expecting the warm soil to cave and wrap me in his everlasting embrace.

I reached across the small space between us and grasped her hand. I turned to my best friend and smiled. Her slender fingers squeezed mine, warm and assuring.

“How long do you reckon it’ll take for the snow to bury us?”

***

Our hands brushed against each other as we strolled along the small sidewalk, towering concrete surrounding us, lights blaring and the noise of life deafening.

The brisk air flushed the tip of my ears. I cupped my gloved hands around them, my breath visible against the cool air. He chuckled, deep and throaty. He peeled off his leather gloves, rubbing together his palms, and brought them to my ears. His warmth banished the cold from my tingling ears. I giggled.

There on the sidewalk, his hands over my ears, my laughter ran into silence. I peered into his deep eyes. I flicked my tongue across my dry lips. I swallowed, my parched throat rough. I leaned into his sturdy frame. His lips pressed against mine: warm, soft.

Pulling back. I observed flecks of white dancing about in the night air, reflecting the colours of the city lights. I pulled off my glove, threading my fingers into his, feeling calluses pressing against my palm as the cold air swirled around us.

***

I turned the street corner, rubbing my hands together.

“There’s this guy, I think there might be something here,” he said, smiling.

I looked up, clenching my jaw, forcing my lips to part, “That sounds promising.”

He lay his palm on my back, his warmth bleeding through the sweater, provoking a cascade of shocks to course through my nerves. They spread across my insides, like cracks in glass, the pressure of his hand against my skin extending their reach.

I put one foot in front of the other, absorbed in the ache that enveloped my body.

“Let’s just remain friends,” he had said.

I cursed my agreement.

Flakes nestled in the threads of my sweater, settling against the warm patch of exposed neck, chilling my bones.

Flurries slid across my face, leaving trails down my cheeks. Flecks of snow tangled in my hair. I pulled my leather gloves on, shoving my hands into my pockets and trudged along the sidewalk.

I looked up as the dark sky sprinkled the world with powdered ice. The magic of the moment halted my thoughts, filling my exhausted body with a momentary warmth. The moment passed, the warmth leeching into the hungry air, abrasive and demanding, leaving a cold void inside of me.

I plunged my hands deeper into my pockets, tore my eyes away from the unforgiving powers and lifted my foot off the ground, taking each step slowly and deliberately. The urge to stop pulled at my feet, tempting me to splay myself on the ground, to disappear into the warm embrace of the earth. But I walked on, as the snow continued to fall.