My heart like a kick drum.

My love like a voice.

Tonight I should be curled up with wine, listening to the Avett Brothers. It is a night meant for pining and nostalgia. Those are the two things I do best. The cold brings memories and longings that summer lets you forget, like car windows rolled down too far under a canopy of glistening sky. Like being afraid to get out from under your covers in the morning. Like company in the early hours of evening.

"We do not rest satisfied with the present. We anticipate the future as too slow in coming, as if in order to hasten its course; or we recall the past, to stop its too rapid flight. So imprudent are we that we wander in the times which are not ours and do not think of the only one which belongs to us; and so idle are we that we dream of those times which are no more and thoughtlessly overlook that which alone exists."

~ Blaise Pascal