The Cabin Will Keep Us

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. Your first time here. I’d been dying to bring you for so long. I knew you’d fit right in.

The night had been beautiful, fat flecks of snow were falling, casting dots of shadow over your moonlit face. Yes, the night was beautiful, but it had nothing on you.

Your golden hair was tucked under a beanie, a crying shame if you ask me, but you were cosy. Just like you are now. All tucked up under a blanket. Under my watchful eye.

The drive had been more than I could have asked for. A string tied between you and me, pulled taught, vibrating with every pull of your lips and breath in your chest. I knew it would be magical. Truthfully, I’d never felt so in tune with anyone.

We had big plans. Swap out the hustle and bustle of our lives for some tranquility. Long overdue. We work hard. Every day lived on someone else’s timeline: boss, parents, hell even the cats. We deserve some quietude. Something for just us now.

You’d never truly seen snow before. Not snow that could swallow you whole, that defied all logic to your city ears: how could something so big fall so soundlessly? A void of noise. A void of anyone to hear it if it did make a sound. Peaceful. We’ll take that peace with us forever.

The cabin was my grandfather’s. He’d built it himself. I’m laughing now as I write this. Of course you know that. You’d probably roll your eyes and tell me I’d told you that ten thousand times already! I would nod, and be proud of it; this achievement deserves to be breathed to life ten thousand times.

It was chilly inside, smelled that faint scent of decay. You wrinkled your nose. Sneezed at the assault of dust. Adorable. I like that the dust covered the floors, almost like a fine sweeping of snow followed us inside. It immortalised our movements as we tangled together.

No one had been here for a while - it was hard to find the time. A small miracle we both got holidays off together! With luck like that I had to check flights immediately. Not so fortunate there, but no matter, it had been a Christmas gift. The rental car was your treat. Always so generous. You’ve even left me a sliver of blanket to crawl into where you've settled on the hard wood. Not your usual style, but certainly a welcome change.

The cabin changed you, like I said it would. You feel its stillness all around you. You let it inside. I helped you.

And that’s what you wanted. It’s been a difficult few months. I know that. Sometimes life is hard and things get in the way. How nice has it been to be away from your phone finally? All that midnight texting, and abrupt calls. They’ve been so stressful.

There’s no service up here. Just you and me. It was just getting in our way.

I will admit. You did look scared when I brought it up, brought him up. I wasn’t angry with you. I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure, and I haven’t been around much to take care of your needs. That was my mistake.

It’s not one I’ll make again.

You cried and you pleaded. Apologised. You tried to make it up to me, promised it meant nothing, but I knew better. I could feel the shift in you. I’ve been feeling it for a while now.

They always pull away in the end. This was the best place to be when that time came. It was time to take your place with the others. Sorry, I know I'm not supposed to talk about my exes. I do hope you like them though.

There was only one way that we could truly be together. I did what I had to do. For us.

I wanted it to last forever. You and me.

We’ll never be apart now. The cabin will keep us.