When faced with a world that can be cold and harsh, we all long for a warm protective embrace of another, regardless of gender.
I am standing at the kitchen sink now running a scouring sponge for the fiftieth time across a grease encrusted pan. The soapy water stings my dry chapped hands. I stare blankly out the kitchen window at the landscape, parched of color and detail. The wind sweeps up drifts of snow and scatters flakes in front of my view. They fail to sparkle in the dim gray light. As the snowflakes drift from sight I let out an audible sigh. Though the temperature inside is a comfortable warmth, the chilling wind outside seems to have penetrated through the walls and glass, anchoring itself deep in my bones and joints. I am no longer the idealistic, charismatic, adventurous, sensual person I used to be . . . at least not today.
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