#dear winter

Dear Winter,

     You’ve always been my toughest season, and as I write this, I am struggling not to struggle. I went to bed last night, and I was cold. I woke up this morning, and I was cold. I stepped outside, and temperatures below freezing greeted me. From my window, I’m watching snowflakes fall, just barely visible, and even though it’s not even 3pm yet, I can tell that the sun is nearing the end of its daily journey to below the horizon.

Dear Winter,

     I didn’t always dislike you, and I’m not sure I do even now. I know last year I said I was no longer afraid of you, but when I sense you near my heart still sinks. It might have to do with the worry and hurt I’ve seen in the eyes of my friends around this time of year. It might be the gray that you’ve put in my father’s beard, from hours spent pushing snow around parking lots, instead of sleeping in and building snow forts and dragon sculptures. It might be because you just make me want to sleep; I lost so many hours on the Hilltop because I wasn’t ready to get out of bed, and the thought of a nap was all that got me through classes I wish now I had enjoyed. It’s hard to enjoy anything when there’s a snowdrift heavy in your brain.

Dear Winter,

     I know you’re only just beginning to peek around the corner, but I’ve known you were on your way since I first felt you in August. I know you just want to play, but you’ve hurt me without meaning to. I’m trying to forgive you even though it’s not your fault.

Dear Winter,

     I want to love you, you must understand; I think someday I will.

~A.G. 11/8/19