Everything starts with this. Everything good, that is, and everything bad, everything that matters starts with this ache. It's the pull between have and want, the pain of separation between the two. They can only remain apart for so long; eventually the force of one will overpower the other. They will collide, and I will either want what I have, or have what I want. Or I will manage to convince myself of one or the other. No one can live like this forever.
It feels so empty. The air is thin and cold, and I can't get enough of it in my lungs. And yet it is here, in the ache, that I have choices. Warm my hands, or not. Try, or not. It is only in the ache that I have something to try for.