… solipsubmissive …

It is on nights like this, though never have you warmed me, that i miss you the most.  Nights, cold and dreary, the steady dripping of the frigid rain a mournful background to the slow cadence of my heart.  Nights when the chill seeps through the windows and walls, creeps along the baseboards to gather in corners and wait, swirling softly, for the chance to invade my nest.

i wrap myself in softness, in thickness, encase my feet in socks far too large, make myself small and smaller still within the cocoon of my oversized fleece robe.  On nights like this, when i burrow into the cave of my blankets, i miss you with an intensity that chills me from within and  makes it more difficult to combat the cold.

Because, though never have you warmed me, i miss your warmth.  And no matter how hard i try to believe, the light of a single candle cannot dispel the chill of your absence.