The Only Light

The day could not have gone better. Everything seemed to lead to the moment we could finally see each other again. We had planned this outing for a while now, ever since Purina announced the sponsoring of the ice rink again. It's been almost a year since the vaccinations rolled out and became a yearly event for us all, and despite all the happy things to come along with the reopening of our home, she was still hardly around. I often think to myself how alone I am and how did I let this happen? I sigh, looking at the time and the excitement rolls over me. I won't be alone tonight. I pack up my own skates and grab my favorite scarf, the one she bought me for my birthday last year. It's not as soft as it was, but the scent of lilac still lingers, reminding me of spring. I smile to myself for just a moment, picking up my phone from the end table before remembering, she asked me to leave it. Today is our day out. I set it back down on the end table and grab my keys. It's already getting dark out, so early in the evening. If it wasn't for the time of year, I'd be concerned more about the sun disappearing, leaving me alone to myself. I don't have to think about that tonight though I tell myself as I walk out my loft. It's a short walk to the downtown park. It's cold but every step is worth it. Soon enough we'll have cocoas in our hands. Soon enough we will be laughing and singing holiday cheer. I meet her at the metro stop, just a block from the festival. She stands at the top of the stairs, her long brown hair to one side. Her coat is long and bundles up well, and she is wearing her favorite old winter hat, the one I bought her last Christmas. It's not long before we have our skates on and we are spinning around in circles on the staged ice.

She smiles so bright as we skate along the ice rink. Her winter hat daring to slide off her head if she skates against the wind again. The frigid winter air is hardly kept at bay. Though we are bundled up in our warmest coats, I can tell her smile is chapping. She laughs though through the pain, her hand reaching for mine as she turns on her skates to face me. I feel a gust of wind hit my back, almost as if it is helping push me towards her, to be closer to her for more than just the warmth she welcomes. We round the ice rink once more when a shriek is heard from across the park complex. Beyond everyone's hot cocoas and mitten-covered hands the festival's stage goes dark, and then the stringed lights above our heads, and the light from the sidewalks and streets. There are hollers as the city around us blackens. Children are screaming for their mothers. Tall structures beyond the park are hidden in shadows. The night sky is hardly different from the blackness around us. It's hard to see when the lights went out, and I cant see her.

I hardly noticed how cold the winter air had really gotten with how dark it was around me. Then... I feel her hand tightly grasp mine. Her hand is warm to mine even through our gloves. I follow as she pulls me off the ice, and our bodies are met by shoves of panic. She pulls me in and whispers she is frightened. In the madness, I tell her to not worry. I'm glad it is not quiet.

I can't think of a time where the city has ever been so dark in my life. It's as if everyone had forgotten phones have flashlights, but we didn't have ours to show them the way. She had asked that we leave ours behind, that this was our girl time. So, here we are clutching each other in the dark and cold.

We have hardly made a moment of time for each other in the months since we moved to the city. It's been a wonder that we stayed friends at all with her in school and myself in school plus working all the time. She used to say we would see each other everyday, because how else can best friends stay the best of friends. I thought she was right, we would make the time, but here we are, our first outing in half a year together. It wasn't the pandemic's fault anymore, but the motion of life getting back into gear. I guess that I should be thankful this sadness was delayed a year, so we could avoid living our lives a little longer. So we could still be there for each other. I cant say I regret making my choices, and I can't say I am unhappy with hers, this is who we are, and probably the directions we were always going to go, but here we are, not even an hour together to catch up and everything seems just as bleak again. I begin to feel the dull ache of loneliness pull at me, the way the dark of my room does when I'm home alone. I am only tugged from my own thoughts when I hear the strangest of sounds in all the yelling. Despite all the stranger's and chaos reigning around us I can hear her giggle. I look down to were she is - my eyes are are still hardly adjusted to the night. She is almost just a shadow in my arms but she looks up at me then. The only light in all of St. Louis was not the moon reflecting the Mississippi off by the Arch, or the emergency lights in the hospitals way off in the distance, but rather the smile of the girl that I loved and the way she looked only towards me in all the darkness.