Sometimes I’m cold.
I shut down. I shut out. I simply don’t want anymore. My heart is no longer an ever-thirsty porous sponge desperate to soak up love, attention and affection.
It’s a strange sensation when the longing ceases, like that startled feeling of falling from a great height only to realize you’re safe in bed and haven’t moved an inch except for the frightened gasp no one heard.
When the empty, off-kilter existence that has been the norm suddenly is no longer, the calm stability is what seems off balance. I must learn how to live in this temporary skin of frost and frigidness.
Perhaps inside this protective shell I’m evolving, maturing, learning. The heat of Spring’s sunny rays will reveal the answer.