[ Poor Winter Luck. ]

The music playing sounds like a broken merry-go-round and a handful of crushed, silver ornaments. What is it about people these days that makes me feel like a child that was stood up on Christmas? I met someone rare recently that fit like a cashmere mitten in December, only to realize that this little piece of happy belonged to someone else and I was forced to give it back. I knew it was going to happen anyways, but it didn’t make my hand sting any less in the cold. Though to be honest, I found warmth in the revelation that I was able to try something on, even if it was for less than a second, because it’s been a year and a half since I would allow myself to fall down and scrape my knee. Time has forced me to look up, to search for day in the sky, even if I feel like crawling back into myself to hibernate for another a year and a half of snow.