Let us ignore that we're completely out of season. That it's cold outside. You take steps on the pavement that little bit more delicately. You cannot help but appreciate some of the beauty that comes to life in the frozen spell of this time of year. We light candles to scent the room, to give us the best light. Despite what the rules say. This all settles us in and we feel at home, at last.
Do you see that silhouette? The one accented by the delicate hips on spindly legs? Her hair you know is long, but it is tied and held to one side. Dark eyes and rouge. She holds the room with her laugh. She is eloquence, personified. Yet humble and happy.
There's a lump in my throat. My eyes are hot. I can't take anything now without fear of giving the game away. Can't steal away five minutes on my own without questions pointed at the intention. I've seen life die.
Should wish these words to be so old, and to have lost their meaning. Yet they still haven't. They linger, in a most intrusively persistent way. Frustrating. Still walking through woods, in denial by choice, of the dangers that lurk.
The search party is out, torches in front. Breath hung heavy in the air. Stick close together, don't get lost in this frosty dark. The snow is gone by morning after all, but it's this early morn we need concern ourselves with. I've seen life on the verge. At the brink, then snatched back from that effectual boundary. Admit it though, sometimes you're a little in love with the way things are. You don't want to give this up, not really. You wouldn't know a life without it. How could you begin to cope then?
Is this all there is?
These hateful thoughts. I don't want to regret anymore moments that are lost.
Effervescent spirits, flying this time of year. You think you haven't seen them, though you have. They are the dazzling lights on your Christmas tree. As I sit in the room and watch it flicker and twinkle, all natural light gone a while ago. It's 3am and there's nothing but us and the continual flashing. The rhythm is soothing and consistent, something you relish as it's unfamiliar. Trying your best to focus on that, instead of the eternal feeling of failure. Wanting things to be just as perfect as they were only months before, because they still are and will remain, but dear darling, you knew you couldn't skip certain steps for long. Terrified as hell and I don't know how to tell you that. This is not about love, it's a different story entirely.
Don't worry darling, I'm right here, really.
I should wish this away, especially soon and that's a promise.
I shouldn't just wish it, I'll tell it.
Standing from a cliff face, a tall building, a plane door, the top of the world and beyond.
I'll shout it.
"Go away, go away, go away!"
Then maybe all I'll have left is my friend Silence and overflowing happiness. Radiating golden, like a contented sun.
For that's all I was once, happy. I think. If so, I think I really want that back again.
Tell her she wrote these words, she needs to know that under it all she really knows what she wants in spite of everything. It won't be easy but that's the point. You don't just walk out of the tunnel into the light. There's lessons to be learnt. This, we believe, is the empowerment of love. Winter is magic.
Tell me something wonderful, because I know you are for starters.