Snow

Snow.

I love the uniqueness of it. I love the familiarity of it.

A thick blanket of cold wraps around me and I feel a low-grade sense of claustrophobia mixed with comfort.

I love when the darkness falls over the sky and little bits of illuminated white stare back at me through the icy panes of the window.

A part of me wishes it could snow forever.

I close my eyes and memories flood me.

Building my bunk bed when I was about 7 years old.

Flashes of a pale sky stretched out of the ocean, while clouds, heavily pregnant with rain lingered on the horizon waiting for their chance to slowly creep forth.

Being too short to reach my favourite book off the shelf in the old library and how it would always smell of art paper and fruit-flavoured gummy candies, despite its age.

Leaves crunch under my new trainers as I swing a candy bucket shaped like a little pumpkin; I'm dressed as the red Power Ranger.

Nan's house is brilliant and warm as I skip into the door wanting to tell her about the project I did in school.

The sun spreads golden light around my Norwegian hotel room; the warm morning light is inviting, almost providing me with a sense of belonging.

An ache for these memories crawls through my bones, settling in my joins and stripping me of energy.

Feelings of lethargy tangos with feelings of suicidal emptiness, leaving me in a sleepy, saddened state.

Reality isn't reality anymore.

It can't be.

I can't come to terms with it and I'm unsure why.

It's not all of the changes that I've gone through in the past few years; I've gone through so many difficult changes. 

I think it's the hopefulness that I miss.

No, I know that's what I miss. 

I miss the knowledge that I have some sort of a future, that anything is possible. 

When did I really become so hopeless? 

When did I become so disillusioned about life and everything around me? 

It almost feels like my life is on rewind.

It all feels like everything that I've lived through, all the memories, all the moments, both good and bad all mean nothing.

Now that I've grown up, I don't know what to do. 

This year I will be 28 and I have no real focus or even drive. 

I'm all over the place,

still the same nervous bundle of unbalanced energy.

It was more acceptable when I was younger, but now, even I know the "excuse" of youth is long gone and it's time to try and make new adjustments, despite all of the psychological unrest it will cause me. I think it will be better in the end if I do it.