Every morning I'm waking up colder. The weather is changing, my heat doesn't work. It's something I prefer, going to bed cold, piling blankets on top. But the blankets aren't working. The warmth doesn't come. It doesn't stay like it used to. It leaves little by little every night. And so begins the waiting. Because there's only so many blankets I own. Only so much heat that comes out. Only so many layers I can wear before they all start splitting. And so I will wake up colder and colder, next to a side of the bed still cool.
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