Late Night Thoughts

The cold

I can feel the cold rushing in again. Not from the marble tiles under my feet, not from the air the open window is letting inside the blank room, not from the lack of proper heating in this entire house. No, the cold is deep inside me. It swallows my heart and tears at my lungs, sending icy daggers through my nerves. I don't seem like it. My skin looks no less pale than usual and neither goose bumps nor shivering have started taking over my body but on the inside, I can feel it.

It's the cold that comes with memories, thoughts crashing in your brain until the world around you doesn't exist anymore and all you can see are all those people you once knew and all you can hear are the voices and the sounds of a world long gone and all you want is to get out. And then suddenly you're left with nothing but the cold, the silent, lonely cold, and often that is even worse.

Today, I don't care. I could feel it coming. At some point I started expecting it every morning, right after waking up, making myself a hot bath to at least pretend like I could do anything about it. I don't bother doing that anymore. Now, I just stand there, with my feet firmly on the ground, hands balled into fists, eyes shut tight, and let it all wash over me.