I welcome the cold.

I allow it to move through me and become the fiber of my being.  

I embrace it wholeheartedly, like a mother embraces a son home from war.  

I breathe it in, giving it passage to my lungs.  

I rather love the cold while most love warmth, I guess it is no wonder since we were born in the warm wombs our mothers housed.  

But I take comfort in the fact that while the warmth everyone loves so dearly began us, the cold which fills me now will fill everyone of us at the end of our short residence here.  

It will soak the surface of our skin and settle within our organs.  

No warmth to be found at the end it seems, because when the coldness engulfs us, the last of our warmth will be pressed out as our last breath.  

And that breath shall take with it our hopes and dreams; The very ribbon of life we followed until it was cut short by some unforeseen tragedy, relieving our warmth from the now icy shells we once dwelled in.