Catching Sadness
Today, I caught a sadness. It started by waking up in a room without sun or arms around my waist, whispered promises in my ear. It spiraled up my legs as I walked towards the new day forgetting my morning coffee and to walk the dog. I tried shaking it out of my foot, but it got caught when I tripped and there was no one there to catch me. It didn't stop bothering me until I accepted it, wore it like a blanket - keeping me warm though I didn't know at first. I found out later that someone had loaned me their melancholy - it was my neighbor's crashed car still parked in their driveway, shriveled like a mistake on paper and steaming of lost money, it was the grumpy teenager behind me at the grocery store who rolled her eyes while I nervously dug for my coupons, it was even the dog I had - not the one I forgot to walk - but the one with floppy white ears that ran away when I was six. It was not the five-o-clock scruff, scrip scrape scraping against my check, the deep whiff of artificial man I would inhale when I stepped in for a kiss, the single drip of the single tear shed as I cried so many reasons to stay - The type of sad I caught was dangerous, maybe worth a hospital visit.