There was a low whirr as the entertainment center shuffled the compact disc carousel to find a track at random, though she always thought that it was searching for a song it liked. The silky tones of Sarah McLachlan filled the air.

The lamp is burnin' low upon my table top, the snow is softly falling…

She looked around the living room for the tenth time that evening; nothing had changed in the last five minutes. She was nervous though, they had been planning this holiday getaway for well over two years and now the unpredictability of the winter weather might cause everything to go wrong. She took her mulled wine from its resting place on the mantle and walked to the sofa in front of the cheery blaze confined to the warm stone mouth of the fireplace. Tucking her legs up, she pulled the classic Hudson’s Bay three point blanket around herself and settled in to wait.

The air is still in the silence of my room, I hear your voice softly calling…

The soft glow of the lights on the tree and the warm tang of the birch logs burning were making her slightly drowsy and her relaxed mind began to cast back over the years. Her life had been in a completely different place five and a half years ago than it was now. And a much darker, sadder place if she was truthful with herself and being truthful, she knew she probably wouldn’t even exist now. What had changed everything was being introduced to her heart.

If I could only have you near, to breathe a sigh or two...

There had been a sudden inspiration to try to write again, an idea so strong that she had to kick in her attempt at the shared subject matter. Up until that moment, she had been passively observing, slipping deeper into a rut of sameness: Non thought, complete disconnection, darkness, and the grey pastiche of antidepressants, anti anxiety meds, and soft drugs. She had been at war with herself for more than half a decade over her own sense of self. Then the spark hit. She wrote, she posted and was amazed to see that she was receiving accolades. She decided to get an opinion from an author she respected and enjoyed.

I would be happy just to hold the hands I love, on this winter night with you…

The author wrote back. She wrote again to the author and made a connection of friendship and mutual encouragement. There was a sliver of light that cracked through the grey, like pre dawn. She managed to write some more and felt a little better, not because of the kudos or comments, but because there were connections forming between herself and the outside world. It was scary as hell, but intensely exciting too!

The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead; my glass is almost empty…

It had seemed an ordinary autumn evening when she discovered the message from the author. “I have someone I’d like to introduce you to. I think you would be very good friends. Write me if it’s ok for them to write to you.” She was gobsmacked, curious, afraid and intrigued all at once. But she trusted the author, so with a trembling heart, stomach and hands she wrote “ok”. When the first message arrived the next day, she read it with fascination. They had a lot in common, more than she had ever expected. She started writing her reply and found the words flooded out of her like a bursting dam. She was exhausted when she finally sent her message back.

I read again between the lines upon each page, the words of love you sent me…

By the time two months had passed, they were sharing things that neither of them had ever told anyone else and she was certain that she was falling in love. By December they both felt it and a relationship started to blossom between them. They had both been hurt in the past and agreed to move slowly, respecting each other’s needs. Reining her heart in when it wanted to gallop madly in all directions was difficult, but she did and their love and respect for each other took root. Soon, even just knowing the other was online made them feel warm and serene, even if nothing was said. The opposite was true as well, as they talked for hours about their thoughts, dreams, fears and hopes.

If I could know within my heart, that you were lonely too…

Distance and obligations kept them apart for those first two years, although the longing to meet was unbearable for her some days. When they finally did meet in person, the connection they had nurtured was just as strong and true as they both knew it would be. Their meetings weren’t long, all too brief in fact, but they had long term goals that would see them together soon enough, each of them knew it in their hearts.

I would be happy just to hold the hands I love, on this winter night with you…

Her life changed for the better over the months that followed as she focused on her goals of being the best version of herself possible, while trying to help others to the best of her ability. The connection that they shared grew to the point where they no longer doubted that they would one day be together forever.

The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim, the shades of night are lifting…

A loud pop from the fire drew her forward in time to the present. Stealing a glance out the window, she shuddered at the storms fury. She couldn’t see anything but a shifting wall of white with the occasional flash of lightning. She was worried; the drive to the cabin had been a long one even without a blizzard.

The morning light steals across my window pane, where webs of snow are drifting…

She shook her head to clear the worry and went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She let her mind wander again. They had been planning to spend the winter holidays together for several years now and finally managed to arrange for this year to be the one. She had spent the last eight months convalescing and healing after finally becoming herself. It had been a long road, but she never once felt alone on the journey. They were of two joined hearts and it had sustained her through the highs and the lows, through all the pain and tears.

If I could only have you near, to breathe a sigh or two…

And all through five and a half years of companionship, inspiration, frustration and devotion; the loneliness and despair they had both experienced evaporated like a rain puddle on a hot summer day. They both knew that they need not fear the future, because they would face it together. She sighed from the core of her being and discarded her worries. They would be all right.

I would be happy just to hold the hands I love, on this winter night with you…

There was another flash of light outside, but this wasn’t lightning. There were headlights approaching along the drive, through the blowing snow. She finally heard the muted roar of the jeep’s engine over the howl of the wind and saw the lights stop moving and die out. She could hear the slam of the doors and the steady crunch of footsteps in the snow as they neared the door. The doorknob turned and a snow covered figure stepped in and closed the door.

And to be once again with you

“Merry Christmas, Bunny.”
She smiled, “Merry Christmas, Kitten.”


Authors note: If you have never heard the Sarah McLachan version of this song, Have a listen.