I know just a few short months ago, I professed my love for you. Well, maybe. I might not have gone that far. True, I do appreciate you, especially around Christmastime. But Christmas is over, Winter. It’s been over for a while, now. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I think the time has come for us to part ways.
It’s true, we did have some good times together. We had a great Christmas, and you know, snow can be fun and all for a few hours. I like scarves and jackets for about a month or so. But I have needs, Winter. I need sunlight. I need warmth. I need flowers. I’m a girl. I love flowers. I know you’re just being yourself and I can’t fault you for that, but I need more than you can give me.
I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here, Winter. You know a part of me will always love you. I was born in the middle of a snow storm, after all. We will always have a special place in each others’ lives, and I can’t forget that. But you and I, we’re just too different. You’re bland and cold and you really like brown and white and gray. I like adventures and colors and blue skies.
You’ve also become kind of clingy. I hate to call you out online like this, but I need space! I need freedom. Thanks to you, I have no social life. With all your snow and freezing rain, I can’t even get out of the house to go buy groceries! Face it, Winter, you’re smothering me.
For example, I can never dress the way I want to around you. This is a real problem for me. Yeah, jeans and jackets do have a certain element of style, but after Christmas, I want to wear shorts and skirts and sandals. You know me, Winter. I hate shoes. And yet, you force me to wear them.
So don’t you see, Winter? It’s not that I don’t appreciate you as a season. It’s just that you and I, we don’t work well together longterm. I never said I wanted a commitment, but you seem determined to hang on to a relationship that ran its course on December 26. I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to remind me of how I’ll be pining for you and talking about how much I love you in about eight months. But you forget, Winter, I always say that my affection for you is temporary. I love you, but only until Christmas. After that, I can barely tolerate you. I’m sorry to be so harsh, but it’s how I feel.
I want you to be happy, Winter. But I also need me to be happy, and as long as we’re together, I don’t see that happening for either one of us. It’s time for you to leave and head on down to the southern hemisphere where you belong. I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you down there. In the mean time, I’ll be happily running back into the arms of Spring and Summer.