how to: romanticize your life during winter

I walked through six inches of snow last night, my 

thick beige winter boots crunching with every step. While listening to

“Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” by Mariah Carey, the white

wire from my earphones warp around themselves; an unsolvable

mess. My hands reach down, stiff by the cold, trying to untangle

loops and loops of wire. 

Instead, my fingers find themselves pressing play on 

an old soundtrack. The voice soothes me – 

warms me from the inside out, hand no longer cold. 

Everything feels warm, too warm, a ringing 

in my ear. Pound, pound, pound. 

I feel stillness, the type of stillness 

he once liked. A crack and the pause is gone. 

The world resumes, boots keep on crunching. 

Between my steps, the song plays, voice 

piercing through. But I hear it – that soft, steady 

THUD. 

Not the music, not the snow, not my boots. Just 

the sound he left behind, refusing to melt.