It’s cold.
Too cold to take out the trash.
Too cold to take my dogs out for a walk.
Too cold to take my dogs out to visit my best friend down the street.
But that’s not the reason why I don’t go.
It’s cold outside.
Too cold to bike down the street to McDonald’s.
Too cold to walk through the graveyard, laughing at silly names.
Too cold to wait outside with the window down calling my friend to come outside.
But that’s not the reason why I can’t go.
It’s cold there.
Too cold to walk on their lawn and pet his dogs as they try to tackle me.
Too cold to go up to that door and knock, asking where he’s been.
Too cold to be in his room, spending hours watching marathons of TV shows, coddled by the bedsheets.
It’s cold.
Because he’s not there to make it warm anymore.
