It was snowing. Ice seemed to cover our very minds and souls, our words and our thoughts, as it covered the splintering trees that fell apart in the wind around us. I don't know why it was winter. In hindsight, it may have been because the feeling that I was trying to find again was tied to some moment in some winter in my life. Whatever that feeling was, it seems like I didn't find it because I was still tied to the world outside of the vision I was having. It was snowing. They picked me up and I slid into the backseat without saying anything, my jaw as tight as the rest of my half-frozen body. Her new boyfriend was driving and in the fleeting moments that her eyes left the road, she only looked at him. She never looked back at me, much less made any attempt at conversation with me. But not in a bad way. It wasn't like she was ignoring me on purpose. It's just that since we broke up, we've lost the enthusiasm to reach out and be friendly. We're there because we're there, and our bodies move despite the dead hearts that they carry. I still don't know how to interpret it. Is it a reflection of what I see, or what I feel? It's neither. But is it what I want, or what should be? Why where they represented as more than the unfortunate archetypes that I cast them in to make it easier to sort out my feelings? They weren't flirting with each other or even really being that affectionate. They were just comfortable with each other. They didn't really say much to me, but I didn't really feel like I was being ignored. I had been friends with him for years, I had been friends with her for years. But in that car, something was gone. In our lives, something was missing. Why do we dream and ponder, anyway? It's just something that came out of me. Like a child wandering out of his house to show everyone in the neighborhood that he exists, without a thought in the world. We got out of the car and went into her house. They talked in the living room while I played with her cat, not paying much attention to what they were talking about. She never even had a cat, because she was allergic. That must mean something. What does that mean? Her cat was friendly. I think they offered me something to drink and I declined. There was her. One of the people from my obscure past whose memory still haunts me at times like these. The short-haired seductress from years before that chased me down the hallways on cocktails of exotic drugs that my young ears had never heard of before. I thought I had forgotten about her. I didn't notice much of anything going on around me, except the cat that I was playing with and the soft conversation taking place in the background. She would ask me to come to her house to comfort her. She would make me sit next to her as she screamed at her boyfriend to try to make him feel like shit. I was separate from their conversation, which seemed impolite, but I really didn't feel like I was being mistreated. The girl who picked me up in the snow would never act like that. But this girl from the past took pride in it. After awhile, they got up from a table and told me that they were leaving. While she was bitching at her boyfriend, I would wonder why she even called me while I dangled a shoelace over her tabby kitten's head. I said goodbye to the cat, scratching the top of its head affectionately, and left with them. Her boyfriend would leave so he wouldn't say anything impulsive. She would ask me to kiss her. We got into the car. It was still snowing. I would tell her that it wasn't right and she would kiss me anyway. I don't know why. We drove off and the sky got brighter. I found myself apologizing for being used by her. I couldn't see them. I don't know why. I couldn't care less. It all seemed to snowball into...