The Diary Of A Broken Heart

Winters

Us people are different, who have different hobbies, perspectives and preferences. Unlike many, I prefer winter over summer and tea over coffee.

Winter nights once fascinated me. But now, I dread them. Yet, I'm desperate to experience them, for it's one of the things that remind me solely of you.

I remember the nights we spent in my gallery, wrapped in each other's arms in front of the orange fire that scented the house with a smoky fragrance. I still have that sapphire blue blanket, and I wrap myself in it, wishing you'd appear miraculously but I know that's not going to happen.

I remember the lazy Sunday mornings when I'd wake up on the couch, your arms wrapped around my body, warming me enough to not need any blankets. Your head next to mine and your face looking angelic as you are in deep slumber.

I remember falling asleep on your chest and waking up only to find you in the exact same position, having not even moved a limb, for you knew I'd wake up. The few sunshine rays lighting upon our faces, reliving us a bit from the feeling of numbness from the night before.

I remember opening my eyes in the middle of the cold misty night. I woke up for no reason, but I'm glad I did. You looked like an angel I swear. I couldn't help but stare at you. You'd make a slight move and turn your arm towards mine, as if you were searching for something. You wrapped it around my waist and pulled me closer, half asleep. The warmth of your hands is irreplaceable, for there is no blanket in this world that warms me better than you.