I miss being outside.
The snow is pretty, especially when the flakes are huge and it falls so slowly, but the cold air is uninviting. I feel like I've been breathing the same recycled air for months now, and I think my skin hates it more than I do. I feel closed in and trapped, and getting out of bed is so hard when it's barely twenty degrees outside. I want to sit on my porch (more accurately, my little slab of concrete) and get up with the sun to take morning walks. I want to sit outside through each sunset instead of watching them as I drive home from work. More than anything, I hate hearing about pile-up crashes taking lives because of slippery roads and low visibility.
February is the usually the worst; thankfully once we hit March we can start remembering that it only gets better from there.
For me, the end of winter isn't just being able to effortlessly keep warm, but it's being able to wander outdoors, feel the comfort of the sun, and breathe in fresh air. Something about me changes every year with the seasons; it's like I'm a whole new person when the sun comes out, and everything in nature is brought back to life again. It feels like being whole again.