I used to love the winter. The refreshing and adrenaline-filling feeling as the cold air touched my bare skin. Running around an empty parking lot with my shivering friends asking me how I could bare such temperatures. The embrace of white, fluffy snow. Now the winter is a time of cold and memories of pain and sadness. Crying over what I can't have. Blind to what I do have. The thin line of how many layers of clothing I'll have to wear between freezing and overheating. The freezing cold reminds me of him. Watching my friends play in 20 degrees while I can't stop thinking. They don't understand and I hope they never will. The pain of him still lingers, almost a year later. The cold a reminder, because that was how it was when he left. My insides are freezing. Wanting to be thawed out, but I'm afraid it's too late for that. My heart aches for the old and new people. Pain that seems to never go away.
My mind swirls.
Has winter always been this dark or is it just my perception?
