I love this cold weather. I very much enjoy the sources of comfort it forces us to use; hot chocolate, fireplaces, and cuddling, but even more so I love the weather itself. I have always been in some strange, but purely plutonic way, attracted to the cold. I am not immune, though albeit not unused to, the below freezing temperatures, I simply embrace winter whereas the other seasons I merely accept. As my flesh tightens, goose bumps appear and I feel more real than ever. Feeling the chill, but yet not allowing my teeth to chatter or knees to knock, I feel the fight within. I take walks at night in my jammie shorts and a T-shirt. I wish I could pinpoint a better reason for doing so aside from just loving it. I love being cold. All the comfort and warmth that comes with 20 degree weather is adorable and fantastic, but I do so love feeling cold.
I saw an unrealistically cute girl and my terribly awkward helpless reaction was to say with a trembling voice and rosy red cheeks ”come here often?”
I’m never answering the door for mail ever again.