A cold rant

Someone told me that it's the winter nights that are scary, that they trigger sadness, that they make you want to feel needy. Being alone in winter nights was painted as a scary thought. 


But what about the mornings? The ones where you switch outfits thinking- "The day will be warmer, should I not wear this jacket?". The ones where you make a list of things you want to do. The ones where you think you'll feel warm enough but your heart is weary and your body is sore. But then on some mornings like that maybe you will get up thinking- "There's a possibility for today to be better." 


But winter mornings are colder and darker. Not many houses are awake, the city sleeps in a blanket of fog and there you are waiting on a highway with no streetlight hoping that a bright blue bus will drag you out of your misery. Today I gave in to a cheap thrill based on a whim, a pang of sadness and a full dose of loneliness. That's what a winter morning did to me. 


Now I am sitting by a pond writing this to fill in a void. My hands are too cold to type and the sun is barely warm enough but I am still waiting and writing this thinking that it will be okay, thinking that it will get warm. But maybe today is meant to feel cold, lonely and long. Maybe today I will keep trying to uncurl my fist and hoping for warmth to surge in on its own. 


But right now I am cold and sad. Are my hands cold because my heart doesn't feel warm today? 

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