Controversy of thoughts

It’s cold around, yet I don’t shiver;
The white snow encompasses the fields, yet I melt like butter;
Have I become warm-blooded?
Or is it the warmth he generates?

As friends sweat in the sweltering heat,
A cold shiver runs down my spine;
As jubilant crowd throng to the beach to escape the sun,
I cuddle up to him to breakaway from the cold;
Has my sense of touch disappeared?
Or am I wrapped in a stronger sense?

The sooty streets and buildings in their shades of grey and black
I feel are vibrant with multitude of colours;
Have I become colour blind?
Or is it the effervescent shade of optimism in my eyes?

Fragile crockery slips from my hand
As it breaks into pieces countless,
I wonder if I always possessed butter fingers
Or have I lost control over myself?

An answer seems highly improbable,
As I set out on a journey to understand myself.
Is it the idle love of a young girl?
Or is it emotions galore of a love struck women?