it's ony natural

                The darkness had fallen suddenly the way it does in winter, heavy and cold. The world outside my window was bare. Brittle tree branches were exposed, vulnerable to every gust of wind and the frozen ground was a muted brown.

                I picked up my phone to check the time. 6:23. Four minutes had passed but it seemed like a lifetime. He was an hour and a half late. The spinach and cheese stuffed chicken breasts I made were cold, the green beans were limp. The aroma of chocolate cake lingered in the kitchen and I stared at the two heart-shaped cakes sitting side-by-side in front of me, half-done, waiting to be combined. I had been excited for this evening but my positivity had disappeared rapidly, like the sun two hours before.

                It was no surprise, really. He was late all the time; it was the only thing I could count on. The same way you know without a shadow of a doubt January will be bone chillingly cold in Maine, anyone who knows him knows he’ll disappoint you. His dad was the same way. It was in his blood, this inconsiderate, selfish streak. He couldn’t help it. This is what I told myself, over and over, as I explained his behavior away. Like always, I felt a strong need to justify his actions. He didn’t mean to hurt me. He didn’t know what he was doing. Rationalizing his wrongs was the only way I could look at him. It was the only way I could love him. For just one minute I wondered if this made me as awful as he was, if we were the same.

                The weather forecast had called for snow but it hadn’t come. Not even a flurry. With a sigh, I took another bite of cake and wished snowflakes were dancing outside my window to cover the ground with their clean and simple beauty. I longed to see the world  before the plows came through and clumps of sand in the snow confirmed that perfection is fleeting. For one night, I wanted to see beauty in the darkness.