It's supposed to snow where M is. A lot. It did that last year, when we were there together. Shortly after we moved there. Right after we lost B. I remember people telling us, "This never happens here."
I wonder what he's doing in the snow. Is he taking his girlfriend's baby, the same age as E (but full term) out to experience snow for the first time? Because that should have been E he was doing that with. We should all be there, together, a family. Our first family winter, our first family snow. But instead we're broken, and he's being a family, a daddy, with them instead.
Is he taking his girlfriend on romantic walks in the falling snow? Are they cuddling up inside and watching the snow fall from their nice warm apartment? Are they having flirty snowball fights? Because we should be doing that. As husband and wife.
All day I have been consumed with the impending holiday, and what could have, should have, might have been. I know I shouldn't be. I don't want to be with him, not after what he's done. But I miss who I thought he was. What I thought we had. What I hoped that we would have, and be.
To quote my beloved Elvis Presley (on whom I've been crushing since high school - I'll have to write a post about that sometime) "You'll be doing all right, with your Christmas of white, but I'll have a blue, blue Christmas."