Last Letter

X.

December, the first real snow

My Darling Winter,

It snowed today. You must've already knew what I thought of, you always came to mind when the season is mentioned, now it's happening in front of my very eyes. You called and talked to me through the phone, and when I answered you said, look outside, and I did, and the snow was falling, it was falling at a very unimaginable way, I always hated Winter when I was thirteen, but now I found myself loving it, why? I don't know either, I don't want to know anymore, I just want to occupy my mind with the thoughts of you. What you said was, I keep thinking about you. Not sometimes. Constantly. Is that, is that alright?

And everything I had been holding for months, all of it, the letters, the distance, the burning careful discipline of wanting you without moving toward you, all of it rose up at once and I said, yes. Yes, it's alright. It's more than alright.

You came over. You showed up at my door with snow still caught in your hair and your cheeks gone pink from the cold and you looked at me the way I had been looking at you for months, like I was something worth crossing a room for, worth standing in the cold for, worth saying constantly to at midnight, and I felt the last of the distance dissolve like snow on warm skin, you wore the coat that you've always loved, your eyes met mine, I've always loved your eyes, there was always something about it, and I'll never get tired of loving it, words always seem to burst in your essence and you carry their dust in the pores of your ethereal individuality.

We sat by the window and you put your head on my shoulder and your hand found mine and we watched the snow fall together and didn't need to say anything else, because everything had already been said in the months of quiet, in the watching, in the constantly, in the way you came anyway, through the cold, to be here.

This is what it feels like. To have the fire finally, finally met.

The fire inside wasn't extinguished at all, but it was met with another, cold at that, held at a manageable temperature, the second law of thermodynamics doing it's wonders as both our temperature goes warm enough for us to be able to hold each other more, for a very very long time.

Winter.

One name, your name

A thousand words, ten letters, countless times of looking, countless times of wondering if I will ever have the luxury to be able to talk to you, countless times of struggling to keep it to myself, multiple times, and countless times of having the thought of loving each other without scruples or fear or restraint. Even if this world comes to an end, even if everything we used to know turns into something we can no longer appreciate.

I will still long for you, I always do.

I do not know if this letter will find it's way to you. But I hope it is, if only you see what I see, then you'll see how extraordinarily ethereal you are to me.

finally, and with everything I have