Thawing
I'm the one with the icy stare that's supposed to match my icy heart. She's told me that she's never before met anyone as cold as me, but I just shrugged it off. At that point, I didn't care if she hated me. I didn't care if anyone hated me. I just went through the motions of life, living day-to-day and not really knowing why.
Being an orphan since birth, I never knew much about familial love. The other kids at the orphanage didn't like me much—to them, I was the tall kid with the weird silver hair and scary purple eyes. They all avoided me, and I didn't care. I saw how they picked on some of those other kids, and I was just glad they let me alone. I gave them their space and they gave me mine.
I was twelve years old when we went on a class trip to a nearby ranch. It was there that I caught my first glimpse of my future life—all those animals, wandering the pastures… They called to me. They understood me like none of the other kids could, like none of my teachers could, like none of the volunteers at the orphanage could… I realized where I belonged that day, and it was one of the first times I can recall ever feeling more than just alright.
A few years came and went around, and soon enough, I was a legal adult. The first thing I did was catch a train to the nearest city and look up ranches that needed extra help. A few calls here, some herding there, and another couple years passed before I had myself a stable job transporting and selling animals. It wasn't long afterwards that I fell into another monotonous routine, spending the majority of my time alone on a boat. Things were getting almost unbearably boring when I met her.
Her blue eyes startled me the first time I saw them. I remember it vividly, since it's not often that I lose my carefully-maintained stolidity. She was so bright and peppy, always wanting to watch me work those two days that I was on that island. She wouldn't leave me alone, and damn, it was annoying. I want to tell myself that she should've just let me be, but I can't bring myself to. Goddess knows where I'd be if she'd given up on me like she could've.
So here I am, five short years later, sitting on the porch of our bustling ranch. There's a baby girl in her lap and a little boy watching the cattle graze in the cool autumn air. She smiles at me, and I feel that same tingling sensation in my chest that I've been feeling for years now. I am thawing.