He’s the kind of person who could stop the world from spinning. Because the sun looks at his hair with admiration for its unyielding shine, and the moon weeps when it can’t exceed his constant glow. Because the ocean recedes with jealousy when it sees his deep blue eyes, and the sky threatens to fall in fear when it notices the never ending storm inside him. And he can make the stars go out when he smiles too bright for them to compete. And have the snow refuse to fall after feeling the warmth that he carries with him everywhere he goes. And Father Time stops ticking in the shock of seeing an older soul than his. And Mother Nature shakes the earth in anger over his insurmountable grace. And then Earth out of despair for his sadness,  yearning for his love, and envy for his looks, would stop.
He’ll smile at the sight of chocolate chip cookies because with them come thoughts of his grandmother whom he used to see every snowfall as a child. He’d look out the windows, watching the snowflakes carpet the yard, his grandmother presumed, because what else would he be doing. But he’d almost never noticed the snow, because that's not what he was looking at.
No, he looked past the rain that refused to be rain. Much further than the white picket fence that reinforced the stereotypic vibe of the small town. He never once looked at the street that would one day be his undoing. He didn’t bother looking through the windows of the house across the street that had placed their Christmas tree against the front glass, just to make sure everyone in the neighborhood knew how special their decorating skills were. Never noticed the stray tabby with nowhere else to go but a doorstep seeking affection. Through all this he looked at the pond. Frozen over off to the far right of the proud neighbors yard was an escape, an easy misfortune that could be blamed on an adventurous, clumsy little boy.
He’s an anomaly. He thinks of the world as the something other than the world. In his eyes snow isn’t frozen water because of changes in temperature. To him it’s frozen because it wanted independence from the other regular raindrops, so it decided to be one of a kind. But at what price did the raindrop give for its uniquity? Now the new snowflake has lost all its friends, they fell much faster than the poor snowflake ever could and he floated too slow for them to wait up. He realizes it's a dark way to look at life, but that's the only way he ever learned.
He maneuvers the streets, avoiding the cracks, and if he steps on one he’ll call his mom to ask if she has sudden back pain. He keeps a routine, an order in his life. He wears the dark jacket and gray jeans on a regular basis. Always eats at six o’clock and sleeps at eleven. He convinces himself that his house is clean, but even he knows that’s a generous use of the word clean. And his favorite time of day is when he’s alone, walking back to his apartment from classes.
He loves sound of the cars as they pass him when he walks the daily route. He finds solace in the way that the cold hugs him for warmth. But the best part is the way the hole in his chest takes control. A crater the size of a soul, filled with the neatly tucked away grief that only truly surfaces on this street. This is when he lets himself think of the thoughts that he tries, in any other circumstance, to silence. The safety of the bikers lane, to the dangers beyond it was always something he pondered.
He walks in the street, but just close enough to the sidewalk for him to get away with it. And he dares cars to hit him, but he’s not a thrill seeker, even though he claims to be. It’s that nagging part of him that’s tempted to jump out into traffic. And it’s that same part of him that prays to the heavens that some guy will drive home in a car that’s going so fast it would only take impact to make him feel better. All he wants is someone to look away from the road for a second and make the difficult decisions in life go away forever. But he won’t let himself think about that too much. Because why would he think about something that makes him sad. There's enough sadness in the world to go around without his constant reflection on life and past events, and he knows that, he knows that well enough to look for any eighteen wheelers going down the street tonight.
Scanning the roadway, lost in the abyss, he heard someone walking toward him with a strange, familiar step. He looked up, and in front of him was his mother. Grey streaks running down her black hair that she so clearly didn’t give a thought about. The wrinkles on her face showed the wild years of stories that she’d always feel compelled to tell anyone that’d listen. Her striking blue eyes that she shared with him were the only thing that made them family. Her tan skin made her look unhealthy and the limp she had when she walked made him think of things he’d rather not. He walked to her with hesitation and then she hugged him. Afraid he might hug her too hard and break her he refrained from hugging her and merely put one arm on her upper back, as lightly as he could. She looked at him with such light in her eyes, such light that he lacked, it made his heart rip in two.
They walked back to his apartment. She was only here because she was in the neighborhood and couldn’t resist seeing him, as she could never. He poured her some water and she thanked him kindly. He talked of school, of drama, of anything normal that came to mind. She looked at the walls, the whiskey stained floor, the clearly failed knitting project that had been started that weekend for the sake of doing something new, and even noticed the broken picture frame in the corner. He finished his rant of college, she finished her inspection, so this should have been the end of the encounter, but she had something else to say. It showed on her face before it even brushed her lips. She glanced at anything but his dreaded blue eyes. She spoke clearly, and even managed to get through it without letting herself burst into tears. He sat through it, and he didn’t cry either, he didn’t even look like he was trying to hold anything back. After, she finally let herself break down, and he stared at her blankly, but slightly horrified, as it was so easy to tell with those grief-stricken eyes. This shouldn’t have hit him so hard, so relentlessly. It was a miracle she had made it this far. He hadn’t even visited her in the past few years, took her for granted it seemed. He only ever spent his time with her looking at that damn pond. He loathed himself for letting her slip away, but most of all he dreaded the mirror. The story she had told him would come rushing back every time he looked at himself. His best friend, his love for chocolate chip cookies, his reason for the prolonged stay, and now his final push. He didn’t even know she had been in the hospital. Needing air he fled for the door and found himself back on the route he took everyday from school.
That’s where we are now, back on the street, but it's not the same as every other time he's walked this familiar path. Today he's swerving, and he's not drunk, or high or anything of the nature. Every step seems to take more out of him than the last. Lost in his thoughts. But the construction site across the road is making it difficult to think, let alone contemplate the meaning of life and his significance in it, as he was so desperately trying to do. Every pop, crack, and bang made him twitch, and the more angry he got at that noise the less he focussed on the road. The less he focussed on the white line that separated him from that bikers lane to the demise that he so craved. The thought of him not having the peace of mind he so needed caused his heart to beat out of his chest, hit the ground, and run as far away as it could get from the man who was about to implode on himself. He doesn't care anymore, because these moments, this time was so sacred, and for it to be taken away by a construction crew that didn't know any better destroyed him.
    All these memories that he didn’t want anymore made him finally loose the grip of disbelief and cry. He looked up at the sky, the waterfront, the clouds, the stars, every breath reminded him of her. He felt the never ending hole in his chest expand in an attempt to fit the new baggage, but it wasn’t working. And in his searching for something that wasn’t a reincarnation of her he saw a snowflake, then everything came at once.
He thought back to his time that he had spent with her. Far back, back to the day he stared out the window looking at the lake. He remembered what she’d said to him when he went back to the window for the third time that day. She looked at him with an odd expression. He felt her eyes on the back of his skull and felt compelled to look back at her.
She smiled when he gazed at her green eyes, and she said, “Why do you find the snow so interesting?” He had then looked back at her puzzled when she said that.
“Oh, you don’t think I catch you daydreaming out the front window all day and night? What kind of grandma would I make if I couldn’t see that?” He looked away from her eyes that judged him cruelly.
She chuckled, which then developed into a violent cough. “I get it though,” she said raspily as she recovered, “why you look at the snow. I mean who wouldn’t when you know about it.” She lingered at the end of her statement and looked back at him. He was very intrigued.
She smiled and said. “You do know the story don’t you?” His face showed the answer clearly.
“Ah, you haven’t. Well, I don’t want to take up your time with old wise tales, I’m sure you’ve got some window gazing to do.”
He ran up and sat down near her chair, pouted, and said something along the lines of please. “Oh, well if you really must know.” He smiled and she sat down and got comfortable in her seat.
She cleared her throat and began, “It’s about the snow,” she started, “you know snow is just rain that is frozen, right?” He nodded yes.
“Wrong.” she said with a crooked smile on her face. He looked at her in confusion.
“It all started one day in December before there was ever such a thing as winter. All days were warm and sticky. But then one a day it was supposed to rain, so the head cloud told all the other clouds to get ready to form a thundercloud.” He looked at her satisfied that he’d gotten his way and was being told the story.
“So all the clouds came together and held hands to form the darkest cloud they could. When this happened the rain drops inside them were all happy, because soon enough they were gonna be free and fall to the ground. Everyone was happy but humanity. They were sad because they wanted something else other than warmth. One boy named James decided he’d had enough of the heat and went to Mother Nature herself to plead. He begged her for something other than sunny days. But she didn’t sympathize with him at all. She only saw his bright eyes and blonde hair,. She couldn't stand to see another being with as much beauty as her. So when she wouldn’t help he bargained with Father Time, but he then fell ill after speaking with the boy. Time had been warned not to peer at the boy’s soul, but curiosity got the better of him and he fainted in shock. Then James went to the rain for mercy, and they were willing to help, but he had carried the heat from the ground to the clouds and the change in temperature caused the rain to fall before they could do anything to help . He looked to the stars for an answer, but sadly they turned their backs to the boy. Something about his smile upset them. He yelled at the sky in anger because he still had no relief. The timid sky was so scared it not only didn’t help but tripped on a cloud and fell. He went to the ocean. It glanced at him with anger when they saw his eyes and didn't help either. He went to the sun for advice, but it was too busy looking at his hair to listen. Finally, he went to the moon, his last hope. The moon peered at the boy and saw a bright glow around him, greater than his own. The moon cried in anguish, and the boy found it useless to try to convince him to help, so he went back to Earth and what does he find? The tears of the moon had frozen and fallen to Earth, and something new had come about. Snow blanketed the ground of the village, and the people were happy. The end.” She smiled and looked up from her book. He had put his head on the ground and was lying half asleep. He had a faint smile on his face and was barely conscious enough to thank her for he story before he went to bed.
Now he’s far from the house. Trying to get as far as he can from the memories. And he's walking too fast to pay attention to where he steps, so he didn't see the loose piece of gravel torn up by the construction. He felt himself lose traction with the road and tried desperately to regain his composure, but to no avail. He slipped and cracked his head on the curb. The blood rushed to his head as he covered the wound with his hand. He felt the blood run down his cheek and onto the road, as he was still face down. So focused on the injuries that he almost didn't hear the screaming. A blood curdling yell came from across the road as the man in yellow screamed, "Get out of the road!" He looked over to see that he had fallen over the white line and was now in the middle of the first lane. He saw headlights coming from down the road. Now he was ignoring the man that was rushing over to pull him up and into safety, but they both knew he wasn't gonna get to him in time. The car now much closer, he wondered if they'd stop, but in all honestly he doubted they saw him, as he was in a black jacket and grey jeans. The car now only fifty feet away and he almost burst out in joy. Forty feet away and he was smiling so bright that stars then scoffed in anger. Thirty feet away and his smile seemed to fade. Twenty feet away and he looked at the sidewalk, wondering if he could make it. Ten feet away and he knew he’d made a mistake. Zero feet away, and he finally got his wish.