winter.

"Sometimes you're 23 and standing in the kitchen of our house, making breakfast and brewing coffee, and listening to music that is really getting to your heart. 

You're just standing there, thinking about going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. 

And also more exciting things, like books you're reading and trips you plan on taking and relationships that are springing into existence. 

Or fading from your memory, which is far less exciting. 

And suddenly you just don't feel at home in your skin, or in your house, and you just want home, but "Mom's" probably won't feel like home anymore either. 

There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that were never for anyone else. 

But just to clam you down when you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period when nostalgia is too much and thoughts of htier person you are feel foreign. 

When you realize that you'll never be this young again, but this is the first time you've ever been this old.

When you can't remember how you got from 16 to here, and all the same feel 16 is just as much of a strangers to you now. 

The song is over. The coffee's done. 

You're going to breathe in and out. 

You're going to be fine in about five minutes." 

- The Winter of Air