winter is anticipation. you canβt quite fully taste the love. not yet. you wonder if itβs even worth waiting to see it in full bloom. you make plans for warmer days. it may be cosy. but only for a moment. walks are short and the chilly wind stabs your fingers. days are short, greetings are rushed. you wish you could sit in the park or watch the swans, but there are no arguments to stay out in the cold for longer. it may hurt if it doesnβt work out for you after making promises.
summer is heat. and so is love. intense and explosive, you receive it in full package. dreams are possible, spontaneous plans every weekend. itβs almost painful to say home when the weather is so beautiful and you just want to grasp that new life with that special person in every single moment. but it can burn out fast. itβs like paper on fire. you think you may do everything and then get bored. no more fun once the sun says goodbye.
spring and autumn are in between. you may feel itβs fine but not quite. the second you sense the flavour, youβre drawn away from it. the waiting keeps you antsy. itβs never enough but you canβt complain because itβs still more than nothing. that push and pull between feeling in love and wondering tires you out. you donβt even know if you want the cosy peacefulness of winter or the adventurous rush of summer warmth. you either watch the flowers bloom or trees lose their leaves, and canβt decide if itβll happen to your love, tooβ¦
2087
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