Congratulations on Blinding Yourself with the Cold!

Today you’re going to be out indulging in your first and greatest love: rubbing your face violently into permafrost.

“I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!” you’ll shout as your girlfriend approaches you with some lotion and a glass of warm milk.

“I know, honey,” she’ll say, sitting next to you on the ground as you violently press yourself against it. She’ll bite her lip and glance at the ground, away from you, which will be strange. She loves watching you rub yourself against the ground normally.

“WHAT’S WRONG, DEAR?” you’ll scream at her, since that’s the only way you can comfortably speak from the ground.

She’ll bite her lip and let loose a deep sigh before she announces to you. “I don’t feel the same way about watching you rub your face against frozen ground until you almost die.” Your body will go cold, not just because of the horrible cold you’re pressing it against. It’ll be the cold of sudden heartbreak, the cold of realizing that the life you built for yourself is collapsing.

Blinking in disbelief, you’ll pause in your constantly efforts to look at her. She’ll be beautiful, just as beautiful as the day you met her. But the way she looks at you, you’ll understand what she sees: a dirty man in a tattered parka rubbing himself ceaselessly against the earth.

“IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE?” you’ll scream at her, furious this time, although it’ll be impossible to tell from the intonation of your voice.

She won’t speak. She won’t be able to speak. She’ll just run away and leave you there on the dirt, weeping. You’ll redouble your efforts to grind yourself into the ground, still inconsolable.

“THIS IS ALL I HAVE LEFT!” you’ll shout, grinding your face into the frozen earth until your tears freeze to it and it takes a team of doctors to pry you away. They will be unable to save your eyes.

Congratulations on Blinding Yourself with the Cold!