December's Cry

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Snow was falling from the outside, everything is blurred except for the silhouette of the longing trees behind my yard. It's the middle of December, and winter came knocking on our doors with it's cold knuckles. It's cold, the weather is cold; But our hearts are colder than anything ice can touch. Memories would come flashing back from the back of my mind, like an old movie playing in an old theater. No one wants to see it anymore, but there are still people who cry from the sight of it's ending. Same old thing, -they meet each other, end up together, what's next? Fuck happily ever after. Fuck winter.

I embraced myself in my thick beige sweater layered with thick walls from my fragile heart. I reminisced the time when winter would come and we'll cuddle in bed together, as if we were foxes cuddling in cozy burrows just to make sure they're safe.

I smiled with the thought of you, but ironically, I was crying too. My tears fell like falling snowflakes, beautiful, aesthetic, but fragile. My heart felt the hiraeth from your memory, knowing I'll never be able to go back to those open arms that offered me warmth; That offered me home. You were my serendipity, my salvation.

A chance I wasted.

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