Thermometers Of The Heart

“Sometimes, the weather is a harsh lover, isn’t it? It can be as cold as those yesterdays when loneliness was a snowstorm raging in our souls, blinding us with its ferocity, burying us under drifts of despair. There are days when the world outside mirrors the desolation within, and every gust of wind feels like a whispered reminder of what’s lost. Yesterday had remained the bane of my existence for the longest time. It was a relentless echo, a soundtrack of what-ifs and if-onlys. Memories that wouldn’t die, no matter how desperately I wished them away, and scars that whispered hello every time the weather grew cold. They weren’t just physical marks; they were etchings on my spirit, constant reminders of battles fought and losses endured. The cold, in its uncanny way, acted as a trigger, unlocking a Pandora’s box of past pains. Each shiver wasn’t just from the drop in temperature, but a reverberation of old heartaches. It was as if the very air became a conductor, carrying the frequency of sorrow directly to my soul, making the skin prickle with phantom touches and the mind race with unbidden recollections…”