Fog in january

I had finished painting five hours later and now the sun had disappeared. I stared out the window to the city below, in fact this was the first time I could see the city in over a week. The winds of February had begun to sweep up winters dust and tonight it looked spectacular. I grabbed a jacket and headed for the door, pulling the sleeves over my paint stained hands I pumped into Healey.
She looked down and mumbled something close to "sorry" or "oops," I was about to head for the door again but I stopped. And turned.
Looking at her sitting at the table staring up and out to the city with the same eyes I used to bare, she resembled what I had once possessed, once carried with a heavy heart. Without feeling the words arise I call out "Healey, wana come with me?" Immediately her face turns to mine and I can see that light in her eyes, the look I could only find in her. Like an internal burning flame of excitement and fervor. I waled out the door and listened as she scrambled over the hardwood floors to catch up as well as struggle with pulling on her coat.
OUt into the open air I tilt open heartedly to the moon and breath deep. It fills my lungs and pierces into my flesh; burning up all the anxiety and samsara of the day to refill it with contempt and purity of this spectacular night. Healey gives me a questionable look as to what the hell I'm doing with my hands in the air. I roll my eyes at her and turn up the streets.
We climb up the avs one after the other passing all our memories. The fences that housed the demon dogs with rabid teeth, the alley ways where we climbed and picked the black cherries till we were full and tired in summers mid heat, all the front yard swings we would play on after ours had been cut down, the old lady's house who fed the doves, where we ran barefoot and carefree, our friends houses who have ether left or forgotten us, and the old houses we had grown up in.
Thick clouds were beginning to descend into the suburbs and sweep across the empty streets. We talked about school and we talked about friends, but it felt different now. She felt alienated to me and masked. The connection we one had, was now frayed in several places but struggling to keep from ripping the last threads we had left. Not until now, have I realized just how deeply wounded we have become. It was dark and I was glad I had the cover of night to conceal my tearing eyes.
She sounded older form what I remember, how long had we or I ignored this change? We winded up 8th and J and looked at the old house. They had painted over the sickly purple that mom had picked out years previously to an even uglier shade of gray. They also painted over the mural we had spent the summer painting; we didn't say these things, we just let them be.
Fog had begun to settle in and surround us. Fog? When has there ever been fog in slc? She stared too as it grew thicker and thicker with every minuet. Only the dim lights of street lamps were visible to us now, we walked down to a lamp and laid under the huge oak tree that is so vivid from my childhood. "Do you see sam often?" The question had come into my head just as fast as this fog. "mmm. Not often, he's always gone and when he is home... he's just there. We don't talk really." She looked at me uneasy, "Oh." I said. What else could I say? I knew what she meant and knew how that felt. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling guilty that what she had said had upset me. "I, I wish he wouldn't do the things he does emma. Sometimes I just get so frustrated." I stared up at the shadows and shapes that were being cast by the light in the fog. "yeah, I understand. I'm sorry about that healey. I cant change him." She only nodded but said no more. "I mean, he never shows up any more! I don't ever see him and if I'm always the one to talk to him. He never seems to want to see me anymore." I was spilling and pouring all these thoughts and couldn't seam to stop. "Don't get me wrong, I love Sam. He's my brother too, but, sometimes I can't help but feel that he has all but forgotten about us." I realized the irony in this.
I felt the pain she had. Being alone and forgotten, as if it wasn't hard enough that we lived separate lives now. H missed Sam and all the thinks we had done years ago when it was easier. I had secluded and isolated myself in self pity, and hear is Healey. Have I not also forgotten her? Was I not any better than Sam was in this situation? I wish I could take it all back now, I wish I had the courage to pick her up and hug her again the way we used to. I felt so ashamed I have left her on her own all this time. I wasn't going to let her wander blindly anymore, I'm going to be their for her, the way I wished sam could have been for me. She listened and nodded, and we talked. We talked about so many things. Everything we had forgotten and let slip our attention. We were slowly mending the thin and frail threads that connected us still. I could see her again, the fog between us had shifted and left the avs. I looked at her. I knew we were going to be all right, we were going to make it work.