It's the desolate cold that reaches far into you. And I'm not sure if I will think this, now, is cold, in three months when I've had it for so long. But it feels so cold. Last night, walking home from a day spent in a daze, I saw the icicles start to spread across the pavement. Aren't they incredible? I crouched and watched them for a while, I swear they grew.
This weekend I drank my first Bloody Mary (I'm still not sure), tried to deal with jealousy (I'm not good at that), and realized how much a hug can mean when you've been silently wanting it (it's so good it hurts).
Here, a marvelously cheesy ballad for a well-lived weekend: