It’s cold outside. I hate the cold. I hate winter time. This time of year makes me feel lonely. The trees are bare, so the wind hits you harder. Everything hits me harder when I’m here. The heats not working, again. One more thing I can add to list of things that don’t work. I can’t take a shower due to the frozen pips. It’s snowing hard out and I just got a call from work saying the store won’t be open today. I’m stuck at home with nothing to think about, but you. I turn on the TV to try and distract myself from going there. If I let myself think about you… even for a moment, there will be no turning back. Nothing on interesting, so I turn the television off. I fix myself something to eat, thirty minutes of distraction. I look out the window to see the ground covered in snow and more falling from the sky to add to it. I wonder where the snow comes from. When your little they tell you stories about how it comes from a magic land where fairies pour it out and you dream of this place. Then when you get older, you learn that snow is just frozen rain. It’s like a dream that’s shattered. I always promised myself when and if I ever had kids I would always tell them the truth. I wouldn’t make up some unrealistic fantasy. Now I find myself lying to her over something bigger than frozen rain. Something that could shatter her life and mine. I just want to protect her, but at the same time keep her happy. Sometimes I wonder if were not meant to have both. In life there are two roads and you can only choose one. I have always been told to choose the one that’s hard, but worth it in the end. So when the time came that’s what I did. This road is definitely hard, harder than anyone can imagine. Now I’m find myself battling with another question. Is it worth it? Will the road I chose, end up being a happy one? If so I must be far from the end of it, because I haven’t felt happy in a long time. I’m not even sure I can remember what it’s like anymore. I know I once was happy. I was once the happiest person in the world. When I wasn’t in this world. I was different there, yet the same. So as I look out at the snow I find myself filled once again with questions. Does it come from a another world? When it’s there is it different and if so how? Did it have the choice to come here? Can it ever return? Can I?