silly bitch

i was taking my keys out of the drawer this morning and an old photograph fell out. me with P. she had pink shirt on. i don't remember her wearing that colour often. it was probably taken at my birthday, two years back or maybe to celebrate end of semester.
i suddenly recalled with absurd clarity an early winter morning. crisp, sharp, the first snowflakes crunching under my foot, looking up to see a lone leaf, still with it fall colours, slowly fluttering to the ground. the cathedral outlined against the grey city sky and smelling the cinnamon in my latte. i can't stop feeling sad. i don't know why. its probably the heat. if only i could have a morning just to myself. i don't know. i wish i knew. it seems so silly to cry when you don't know what you're crying for.