Never Say Never

I hate being cold. This is no surprise to anyone who knows me or has read too many of my blogs. Yet I realised today, as I marched towards the bus freezing my nose off, that I never feel so vibrantly alive as I do in the cold. The shape of my lungs as the ice slips through them, the curve of my nose, the arch of my cheekbones reddening in the cold, my fingers and toes and ears tingling down to the marrow, everything seems immediate.

I hate being cold, but I think I might miss it if I could never be cold again.