It takes a night like tonight, so cold to the point where you can see your breath, to really make you feel like the loneliest person in the world. You come home, and the only thing to greet you is a credit card bill, dirty dishes, and a cold room with an empty bed. So you sit at your computer and look at pictures of how it was, and think of how it could be now.

But the weather isn't to blame, so you try to blame yourself. You're responsible for what has happened, and you created your own situation. But then you realize you're a better person, a stronger person. You feel a rush of blood to your head and swell with confidence, there are others responsible you tell yourself. But you've been over them for some time now. At least that's the lie you keep saying.

You read old letters that should have been thrown out long ago, but they keep good company with the pictures. So when you're done reading them for the third time, you put them back in your dresser. Every song you hear seems to have lyrics tied directly to your heart. The longer the song, the more tugs on your chest.

It doesn't matter how tall you are because there's always the one photo that makes you feel like you couldn't get any smaller. And you can't stop staring. It takes some time before you put that picture away.

So now you sit. With the ghosts of your past in your head and by your side you sit and read, and look, and listen. You dream a little bit longer. The cold starts to creep in once more.

It wears you out, and now it's time for bed.

MUSIC: Even Johanson - Quiet & Still