I don't know how to put this delicately, so I'm just going to come out and say it: I need to start seeing other seasons. I know, when we saw each other back in November after almost two years apart, I'll admit that after a few weeks together, I was smitten. As much as your fluffy white snow fell for me, I fell for you. I was infatuated with your crisp mornings and frosty branches, and I thought your insistence that I buy new boots just for you was charming. I even forgave the more challenging parts of our relationship, like the driveway-shoveling and car-window-scraping and the occasional slip on an icy sidewalk, because I felt that on some level they were good for me, that that stuff made me stronger.
But Winter, we've spent a lot of time together this year, and I really think we both need a break. What I'm trying to say is, you're getting on my nerves, and I'm starting to resent you. It all has to end: The snow, the scarves and sweaters and mittens, and even all that cuddling under cozy blankets. I know, I know, it's typical. The things about you that I found so novel at first now grate on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. That's always the way, isn't it? The other part of it is, you've been keeping me away from Spring and Summer, but it's time for me to see them again. They're good for me in ways that you can never be.
When we reunited this time we talked about it only being temporary, and frankly, you've overstayed your welcome. Please know that all of this doesn't mean we can never see each other again. I suspect it's inevitable that we'll spend more time together in the future; after all, we always rebound after Fall seduces me with her pretty leaves and then leaves me out in the cold.
Sunday, March 06, 2011