Wearing Winter

It's a full-moon night. The cold has finally settled in, perched atop my windowsill, dancing with my curtains, sitting quietly like a paperweight on my desk. My fluffy light-pink blanket lies curled around my body as I sip my hot chocolate.

I feel the winter on my skin tonight. It is surer of itself than it was a couple of days back. It is adamant now, clinging on to every bare part of my body, lingering in the crevices like a friendly house ghoul.

It would sting, but I love it too much.

On crisp winter mornings beside the window, in the early hours when the mist still lingers in the aftermath of a cold night, I feel the breeze coming home to me, returning after a hiatus.

In passing through the windows, it makes them whistle. It sounds like rattling old lungs finally latching on to air, like non-living objects finding out what music feels like.

Tomorrow I will take out my turtlenecks and my sweaters. Old best friends I keep seeing. I hug them so tight for three months I imagine they sigh with relief when I push them back in the dark depths of the closet.

I love winter wear. I love wearing winter.

And tonight, I wear winter like I wear my mother's old fraying maroon sweater - for days on end, refusing to let it go. Trapped between the folds of the wool, I hear whispers. Whispers of homemade carrot cake topped with whipped cream. Whispers of ovens and rising cookies. Whispers of drawing hearts on foggy bus windows. Whispers of chattering, yet smiling teeth. Whispers of "Let's huddle together and hold hands so we don't feel cold."

Same as every year, a smile carried on brisk wind drifts up to me and melts on my face.

I smile when the chilly wind rolls over my skin and softly plunges with a thunk into my bones. I smile when the hot chocolate is just the right temperature. I smile when it's finally getting so cold I have to get up to turn off the fan. I smile when I have to take the thick blankets out.

I smile when I can settle on my bed knowing I will roll over and find winter beside me the next morning.