On the outside, I'm calm, a little distant, sometimes even too reserved.
So they say.
But you know the truth?
I just don't open up to everyone I meet.

I'm like the December air: cold if the touch is accidental.
But instantly warm when it's right.

I've always thought it unfair that women should be soft by default.
No.
Tenderness is a gift.
It must be earned through attention, honesty, and masculine confidence that doesn't oppress, but warms.

I can be strong, I can be bold, I can be caustic—but deep down, I'm still a woman who craves warmth.
Real warmth, not temporary.

And if a man comes along who isn't afraid of my "ice,"
who comes closer,
looks me in the eyes,
and says:
"I'm here. And I feel warm next to you"—

I'll melt.
But only for him.