while our shadows keep

Once, when Sam was little, there was a freak snowstorm—not a proper blizzard, by any stretch, but more snow than she'd ever seen in her life. She remembers laying down in it, making snow angels and feeling the way that the flakes melted on her skin, and she'd stayed outside long after she began to go numb from the cold.It was only when she finally went back inside, peeling off soggy denim and a half-frozen sweater, that the pain hit.Being outside in the cold, that wasn't the part that hurt—it was only once she started to thaw that the agony set in, tiny pinpricks at her fingertips that grew into flames that licked up and down her body. It was the sort of pain that couldn't be dulled or ignored, demanding to be felt.She thinks of that a lot these days, and she wonders if maybe it will be less painful for everyone if she keeps her distance and leaves the warmth and sun to the people who actually deserve it.***Or: Sam sucks at letting people love her.