White.
A sea of white painted before me.
The ice froze into the bark on the trees.
Cars were buried under a thick hum of silence.
The sound of a little boy laughing with his family.
An icicle as sharp as a dagger hanging just above my head.
Heavy. Glistening. Dripping, slowly.
My feet a whole foot deep.
I walked onto the balcony and saw the thickest snow I'll probably ever see.
A chill lingering in the still air raising goosebumps all over my body under my long t-shirt.
The sun reflecting off of every white surface into my sleepy eyes.
And I close them and I breathe.
*inhale*
Ice makes it's way through my nose and melts every part of me.
I smell that chill in the air every day of every winter since then.
How is it that the smell of the cold still reminds me of walking up the icy steps
leading us to the room where we would wake up to that snow in the morning.
Shimmering. Quiet. Beautiful.
Standing on the balcony with your arms around me.
Chuckling at my amazement of the wonderland in front of us.
The smell of winter reminds me of us.
Back when our room used to be warmer than the outside.
Back when we dragged ourselves out of bed after a night of singing dancing and vodka shots.
My favorite and most fun night with you.
Back when you took me to dinner at your old job where the lights twinkled in the white speckled tree.
My nose was red and dripping and you still told me I looked beautiful.
Before we were 21 but you somehow got us drinks anyways.
Having long conversations in a cozy empty restaurant after closing about what we meant to each other .
The smell of winter reminds me of how good we had it
And how we let go of something that probably could never work.
But the smell of the winter is the only thing that let's me remember the good about us.
The good in you.
When the inside of my nostrils burn with the dryness of the cold
I remember one of the best weekends of my life.
I inhale *inhale* and I see you.
