In The Soft Light

There's a ring on my windowsill.

A ring from that cup of hot chocolate we shared in my bed.
Your features illuminated by the soft, glowing string light.
How romantic everything seems under those string lights.

How the twinkle in your eyes seemed so sincere in the soft light.

How my heart seemed to beat so contentedly in the soft light.

How your promises seemed so genuine in the soft light.

That soft light, making the fact that you sat the mug down without a coaster seem like no big deal.

But then the morning broke and the glow from the lights was gone. And your promises were revealed in the day light for what they really were...
Fickle.
And that ring in my windowsill lingers. Like all of the promises you made but never kept.

It was all so much prettier in the soft light.