Those times when life is about feeling the blush on your cheeks from the glass of wine to your left. When it's about listening to music you don't know but instantly sing along to. When it's about dreaming of the past and remembering the future. When its about doing all of these things alone, bundled up on the couch at home, while it's snowing outdoors; when you are waiting for the power to go out and your hair is tossed to the side in a way that may not be attractive. When the silence between songs is the only let-down.
Those are the times when nothing squashes the urge to sprawl out on the living room carpet and stare at the ceiling for far longer than it is interesting to do so. Those are the times when you only half-wish that someone could share it with you. The times where you're aware of your breathing more than ever. When the snow outside is your watchman, making sure there aren't any bar stranglers to interrupt through the windows facing the street with the wind.
Those are the times of content. This is a time of content.