I was walking home down the cold, dim streets that were lit up by nothing but the burnt out street lamps and the warm Christmas lights surrounding them. Warm, inviting hot chocolate in my freezing cold hands. I took a drink of the warm, loveable drink and took in its warmth. This reminds me of a girl I once knew. Her name was Winter and she was one of the coldest people I had ever met– both physically and emotionally– just like the coldness of the air outside tonight. She didn’t let people near her very often, let alone being touched at all, but she let me. I held her hands and they were as cold as the icicles I see dripping from the rooftops of the houses I now walk past every night. Although Winter was a cold person both inside and out, she let me get close to her. She let me see the warm parts of her. Like the hot chocolate I drink on the insanely cold nights, I could feel her warmth among the cold, as if it had been there all along. This warm feeling she gave, it spread to me. Winter adored Christmas. She loved it so much it was almost as if the holiday itself was a part of her. She would celebrate and partake in traditions that I didn’t even know existed as if she created them all. She was so cold, yet so warm at the same time. It’s too bad that the coldness couldn’t last through the warmth. Come spring time, when flowers started to bloom and we headed back to school, Winter was gone. In the end, Winter was a figment of my imagination. Made up of my favorite aspects of one of the best seasons of the year. Winter.