from Friday, 16 March...Snow

It snowed almost all day today. Never very hard; mostly small white specks floating and drifting in all directions, slowly making their way to join the soft unbroken carpet below. The ground grew whiter and whiter and deeper. Beautiful. And two days ago it was 70 degrees! Now it's freezing again, and snow lies everywhere. Peaceful and still. Yet my mind cannot rest. I wanted to curl up in a window seat with a notebook and pen, and stare absently out the window, letting myself get caught by the slow falling of the snow, allowing myself to write whenever the muse swirled in from the storm to stroke my thoughts with chilly and unique fingers. But there are no window seats, and there are people in the house, so I spent most of the day watching movies, and standing before the window in between each one, to try to soak as much of the scenery in, to be replayed later, when in a more peaceful, empty and quiet situation. If I had been alone, I could have stood there, staring, for minutes... until the cat purred loudly around my ankles or I got hungry. This house is relatively cold. I think I need more food when it is cold. Takes more to feed the furnace that burns so slowly and too cool deep inside my chest. More fuel for my fire! I am too cold. My heart is frozen and chipped. Someone stoke my fire, melt my heart, and mend it. And find every piece that has broken off and fallen by the road and been absorbed into the ground, and return them all to me. If you cannot do that, then my heart will remain incomplete until something else can be found to replace those pieces I have lost. Perhaps that is why I am always so cold - my heart is incomplete. And a heart is what keeps one warm.