Wetness

There is something really hardcore about wetness. How when you are thinking about it it doesn't matter, but when you are in the midst of it and feel cold, and your socks are drenched, and you wish for refuge, but refuge is hours away, there's nothing romantic about it. 

It's just a thin bright veil of shiny discomfort on your skin, a feeling of hollowness in your bones, an empty headedness, a shallow breath, fearful of the starchy frost, gagging your throat with unspoken niceness and syllables short of endearment. 

And you resolve it has come winter and time to loving yourself through winter.