Through the looking glass.

The cold enveloped me, embraced me, filled every crevice of my lungs with life. My eyes were unbelieving, I looked at my hands to reinforce their existence. It all looked so complete, so bittersweet, so lovely. So beautiful. So unnatural. He walks up behind me, fills in the empty spots with his warmth. Embraces me, holds me. Anchored. Yet, it's still so unreal. Too perfect, too heart wrenching.

There comes a point and time in everyone's life when they look upon a moment like this, and realize it's not theirs to experience. They stand at the sidelines, maybe with another, and want to cry at the sheer beauty of what is happening. Yet, they don't want to break the ethereal looking glass that has been presented to them. So they stand there, hiding behind a smile. Waiting for their turn.

I look around. Snowflakes drop heavily upon the ice, putting weight on everything. Hush now child, enjoy what you have - they cried. It will be all gone by the morning, we will hide the evidence of this. You don't have to deny yourself this moment.

Yet, I knew. We all know. Even if we let go, even if we really did take the time to appreciate this - life, beauty, fragility of moments, innocence - what would happen to us? What would become of the meaning behind our routines, our chases, our work, our early morning rises and late nights? What would, then, we be? Is it all futile?

Left foot forward, right foot forward. Swish, swish. Silence. I'm by no means a skater, but I like to enjoy the company of those I love. Even when it means I stand alone. My sheer inability to let go has left me here. In the middle of a frozen pond, left in the dark. Left foot forward, right foot forward. Don't let go of the one you love. You'll fall straight through the ice.

Am I then not defined by what I make of myself, but by what I love?

A street lamp lit the longing trees with a forgiving halo. I loved everyone here. So much. I loved the moon hiding behind the clouds, I loved my fellow angels in the snow. I loved the man sitting beside me, warming me with his smile. I loved their laughs, their excitement, their dreams and hopes. Their ability to forget and let go. I loved this, I loved life. Yet I knew this wasn't for me to love, this wasn't mine.

Sometimes you look at life, and you realize that by now, you should have figured out something. That something should have gone right by now. But it never does. It never happens.

I suck in the cold. Breathe in, breathe out. Laugh at someone's joke. Take life in at the looking glass, hoping that someday I won't have to anymore. Hoping that someday, it will be my turn.

Because everyone deserves a turn, don't they?

Don't they?