I do not know what time is it. I am sure that it has passed the midnight. My feet is out of the blanket. The coldness of air is not letting me to move. I am seriously struggling to sleep. In the darkness of room, lit up by weak reflections of streetlights I can see flower drawings of my socks. I only hear my own heartbeat. Loneliness is all around. Strange thoughts are so. I suddenly remember those nights that I got lost under this blanket. Now days, as I am grown up it is not covering me properly. It is the story that happens every night. A cliché.

There are so many things running through my head right now. Thinking about the day passed; the snow, that pair of glove I lost, all those poems that passed my mind during the chemistry class. I wonder why I cannot remember even a word of them.
 

There is a battle inside. Something like the one between the heat and coldness. That is why I cannot sleep. I do not know which side I must be taking. It is bothering me.
 

I do not want it to snow. I do not want to see people step on the untouched snow all for making a coldhearted snowman with phony smile. I do not want to hear people laugh and play snow bombing.
 

All these things drive me into a black hole of memories with no way of escape. The picture of his cobalt blue eyes are stuck in my mind. Last year on this time, he was here. Right here. Close enough that I could hear his heartbeat and feel warmth of his breathe. He put a huge snowball in hood of my parka and turned it to my head skillfully.  Then, he gave me his gloves to make sure my revenge to be fair. Deal.
 

I am tired but I cannot sleep. I feel like this winter would not end without him. I have changed a lot. Probably he has too. I feel like he enjoys knowing that I cannot get him out of my mind.
 

It all was my own fault. I have always been curious about those people with blue eyes since I had brown eyes and knew that my late father -whom I never had a chance to look into his eyes-, had blue. He was only one of those people that I had passionately stared into their eyes, just for exploring them. Nevertheless, this time there was something wrong. He was the ocean and I was the nasty girl who swam deeply.
 

I feel colder now. I do something very daring. I get up. The coldness is ruthlessly bothering me and I can only protect myself with my tiny blanket. I get on my guard.

There is silence all around. It is, as clocks are not working. Even, I feel like I am not breathing. I only hear the noise of my own footsteps.

I am getting closer to the window. I hold the curtain with my cold fingers, even the curtain has nothing to say. The sky is red. Neighbors are not awake. The ground is white. It is snowing. It is snowing slowly.
 

I put my hand on the cold glass and close my eyes. The silence continues. I am numb.  I do not feel neither cold nor heat. We both are standing on snow. He is in front of me. I see my own reflection on his cobalt blue eyes. It is all white everywhere.

He rubs his hands to my wavy brown hair. I am wearing a dark green parka. My white hands have turned to light purple. There is snow on his hair and broad shoulders. He rubs his warm hand on my cold face. He is no longer away.
 

I can feel the warmth of tears on my cheeks. They are moving down.

I step back and sit on the old sofa beside the window.  I feel so warm. I put my hand under my head and keep my eyes on sky. I feel a heaviness on my eyes.

A few moments pass. Then, I start to count slowly whispering to myself.

One, two, three, four, five…

Numbers are infinite. My yearning so. The distance between us so…