A break-up letter to spring

Dear spring,

breakupsYou’re on notice. I’m closer than two (still browned out) blades of grass to being done with you. You don’t write, you don’t call and you’re cold.

Remember when you enveloped me in your warmth — emotionally and physically? That’s gone. I’m left alone, buried under a heap of covers, trying to sleep away the pain and disappointment. I’m waiting for a new day — hoping and wishing you’ll change and become what you once were.

And you’ve gotten so unpredictable. It’s hard to have a relationship with someone who goes through so many extremes. You’re down, you’re up, you’re down (and down and down and down). You’ve reached a near-record low.

I saw on social media you’re really going rogue and may start dropping snow later this week. My friends and family would describe me as open-minded and fairly understanding, but that right there was so not part of the agreement.

You’re aging, I know, and it’s probably a little tougher to keep up with me, but this is crushing. I want the old spring back — the spring that brought me flowers and hung out with me when I cooked dinner on the grill.

I want us to inline skate in the early morning and I want to drive with the sunroof open as you kiss my cheeks.

This separation will be tough for both of us, I know. We’ve been together for more than 30 years. That’s a heck of a lot longer than many relationships last. But, seriously, life (and love) is about compromise. I’ve give, give, given to you and you’ve done nothing but sit there, stagnant, and you don’t seem terribly eager to change.

I mean, I reworked my wardrobe for you. I should be wearing peep-toe shoes, skirts with bare legs and short-sleeve shirts. Instead, I’m bundled in wool Lululemon leggings, heavy sweatshirts and sneakers.

I’d like to be able to work things out. Truly, I would. But, unless you make some sort of effort and show me you’re still the season I chose as my favorite on my second-grade project, we’re through.


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