Four Seasons Of A Relationship

The night is quiet, with iridescent flakes of snow swaying gently in the fuzz of the street lights. Faceless figures dance around in the shadows of the brownstone facade across the street, disappearing into the casings when you try to focus on them.

A steaming mug of Earl Grey warms your hands and you drape a soft fleece blanket across your legs, the edges of it hiding in the fluff of your carpet.

Staring out of your window, you wonder, when will it be your turn. You've been feeling it.

The longing.

The yearning.

Whatever for? You don't know it yet.

There's just a deep craving in you, a need to feel, a need to touch. To see, to smell, to taste.

You ready yourself for the new beginning, whenever it may be.

Snow melts slowly and the only thing you realize is that forgetting your scarf doesn't leave your teeth clattering in the wind anymore.

The days are getting imperceptibly longer with every passing rotation of the Earth, and before you know it, you're eating dinner in daylight again.

Your walk through the park takes along snowbells poking their heads up, and you notice how the dull brown of the earth and last year's vegetation gives way to new life.

And then it happens.

Shoulders brushing on the train in rush hour, reaching for the last napkin in the coffee shop, or even swiping on the right person, something reverberates in your chest.

Could this be it?

The sun's rays warm your cheeks as hope spreads its runners around you, planting new roots in corners of your heart you've long forgotten about.

The often false start of spring is making you cautious, but the conversation unfolds quickly and soon you're covered in thought-petals about them, like windswept streets lined with pink cherry blossom trees.

Goldfinches and great tits chirp in the park, while bumblebees shimmy around in search of food. The cerulean sky sports fast, fluffy clouds that look like cotton candy from the faire, and getting to know this person feels like trying every flavor of jelly beans - each answer is better than the previous one.

You just can't get enough of them, you keep reaching for your phone to have them near, just one more text, just a quick call, when can you see them again?

As the days and your feelings warm up in tandem, the passion in your heart grows. The nights spent together bring mornings of lively conversation, the afternoons spill into evenings and before you know it, your keys have doubled and the space in your closet has halved in the blink of an eye.

Two hearts beating in sync, fingers that brush as if they have their own minds.

Blossoms give way to lush greens and seedlings grow into trees in an instant as the longest day of the year approaches.

Soon planning for the future becomes second nature to you. The scope grows from weekends to vacations, from small gifts to grand gestures, and discussions about the perfect rock, the perfect shade of white and the perfect venue pop up frequently.

The sun shines brighter than ever when the two of you stand in front of those dearest to you. Your vows touch hearts as the warm wind carries them forward, and the night saturates with the thrumming beat of love, making you drunk on the feeling.

The honeymoon blends with the electric joy of a thunderstorm rolling in, and sparks continue to fly as bonfires keep the first chills of the night at bay.

Routine settles your excitement into comfort, and the scorching heat mellows into warmth that radiates from within.

As the first harvests come around, the labor of your heart begins to pull on the branches of life, a signal that all your efforts have come to fruition.

Morning kisses and packed lunch boxes dominate your schedule and the titillating nights spent out become the sweet exception.

Green streaks with yellow and red as the autumn days shrink slowly, and you're dancing in the living room to an old record, one hand clasped tightly with theirs and the other holding a mug.

Intimacy means familiarity.

It means knowing exactly where to kiss them to make their heart flutter, where to touch them to excite. And while the new things are rare, the known ones more than enough to please.

It's sweet, thoughtful and perfectly real.

Bodies that move slow and sensual with languid strokes and warm embraces dominate the time spent together.

The crunch of dry leaves under your feet reminds you of all the steps you've taken to get where you are today. Some were easy, some... long overdue.

The soft patter of the rain keeps you awake at nights when the space which should be occupied next to you seems bigger for its emptiness.

It's that time of the year, when frost sparkles in the morning but the sun still coaxes your coat off in the afternoon, leaving you confused as to what you should be wearing.

The hearty stew simmering on the stove fills your home with the most delicious aromas, the time and energy spent preparing it with the love and care it deserves is self explanatory.

Only...

It isn't received with the usual enthusiasm.

Cold spreads through your heart like ice forming on a lake, slowly at the edges, at first, then steadily creeping towards the center.

This change cannot be explained by everyday woes and circumstances.

You try to put it out of your mind, but patterns built over years seem to vanish into thin air in the blink of an eye.

Long hours at work that come out of nowhere.

New social circles and hobbies.

A rushed kiss that does not get corrected.

Until one day, everything breaks and you find yourself drowning in the cold river of memories and should-have-beens.

Crawling out seems impossible, like steering a car that's slipping on ice, heading towards the cliff.

In your descent, the carefully woven fabric of your life disintegrates between your fingers like warm breath on a winter morning.

Rebuilding seems impossible.

Survival, however, is written in your story, and as the longest night of the year happens just once, you're going to be able to find your light again.

Spring might seem so far away, but it will come once again.

And, if the decades have been kind to you, you'll see things come to completion with your weary hand in theirs.

The falling snow shrouds you with quiet protectiveness, and the world seems farther away with every slow breath you take.

Memories dance between the flickering flames in the fireplace and the ache in your bones lessens not with rest nor sustenance.

The pain reminds you of a life well lived, hardships you've overcome and losses you've endured, readying yourself for the last stop of your journey.

It's time to hand the reins over. You've done your part in this world.

The new will flourish when the old steps aside, and the lessons instilled by the generations before you will live forth in your progeny.

And just like the seasons, the cycle of love and life will begin again.