it must’ve been the weather it must’ve been the greyness how everything as he put it was “the same shade as the buildings.” i was so inexplicably overcome with this feeling of baby i cannot go on, and i asked him please just lay here with me and he stopped fussing about and he said “turn around” and he laid behind me and pulled the covers up and i pulled them over our head so the only light we could see filtered through my old almost ratty blanket and he kissed the back of my neck and i could not stop the silent tears from falling hot hot down my cheeks. it must’ve been the weather it must’ve been how crowded the holiday market it was maybe it was the almost-rain, the biting chill, our hands so cold neither of us could hold onto each other. he laid behind me and kissed the back of my neck and let me cry and turned my cheek towards him and said, “baby. baby. what’s wrong?” and i didn’t know. and it was okay. and that was okay.