I scratched at my neck as the sweat started beading on my forehead. Why did that even happen? The cracks on the ceiling looked like they would swallow me whole in the darkness if I closed my eyes but I wouldn’t let them. There was a flurry outside, coating everything in a fresh powder. He’d be gone longer now. I looked over at the mass of blankets and shook my head a little to myself before looking up again, those cracks seemed to be getting darker and bigger the longer I stared. The bed beneath me was soaked now but I hardly noticed it, if she wasn’t still next to me I’d have thrown open that window in a heartbeat.
Do I love her? No, of course not. We drank too much and one thing lead to another. But then why don’t I open the window? I’m dying here. I can’t believe how hot it is. How can she be sleeping bundled up like that and I’m over here ready to throw myself out into that blizzard.