I want the scent of warm cinnamon, soothing pumpkin, and ginger. I want to taste snickerdoodles and feel the cold biting my nose as warm hot cocoa fills me up. I want to be wrapped in scarves, donned in my winter coat and gloves. I want to march around in the snow and pretend I am a soldier and fall down and make snow angels. I want firey chimney endings to my day, with childlike, innocent anticipation pumping through me. Candles and blankets, a soft and warm voice over an acoustic guitar, the heat of your body under this thin blanket and your chapped lips against mine, is all I want for Christmas.