We need to talk

Dear Winter,

I think that it’s time that you and I break up. I’m sorry to tell you this in a letter and all, but lately you have been too busy to listen to a word that I’ve said. This shouldn’t come as a shock to you because, frankly, we’ve been out of love for a while now. Remember when we first met? Our relationship was so hopeful and full of anticipation! I remember waking up in the morning and reveling in you, your freshness and comfort. I would roll around in your snow until even my eyelashes carried your flakes. I wish I still felt that way. I wish we could still appreciate each other the way we once did, but you have constantly duped me, throwing me a handful of sunny and 30-degree days, then, right when I think that you finally get it, you drop back below zero like those warm days never even happened. It’s not you. It’s me. I should have realized when we first met that this was how it would be.

We don’t dress up for each other anymore. I recall those sweet days of late November and early December when I would wear my fitted wool coat, quaint beret, and the scarf that compliments my eyes. You would surprise me with frost-kissed windows and a glittery lawn. Now, I just wear the same down coat and dingy red boots everyday, not even bothering to coordinate my mittens and hat. Do you know how many cute outfits I have lined up, but am unable to wear because it’s snowy or too cold?! At least five! Plus, you drive me to eat compulsively and then make me feel bad about it! And you. You have grown dirty and slushy. You’re even perilous, hiding cruel lumps of ice beneath the surface. You want to trip me up and embarrass me so that you can feel better.

I understand that you’re stressed and busy at work. With global warming breathing down your neck, you probably feel like you need to work overtime. At what price? The price of our relationship, that’s what. I have always been so respectful to you. I walk or take public transportation. I don’t even own a car. YOU somehow manage to punish me for this. You make the sidewalks icy, snow-filled, and over all difficult to walk on (that is if it’s not too cold to walk without getting wind burn, frostbite, or freezing to death) and you make the buses so packed that I practically have to crawl into Homeless Joe’s lap to find space.

I hope that I’ve made myself clear. Things between us will be rough for a while. I don’t have the funds to move out, plus you seem to like the cities that I like anyway. It will be awkward, maybe even upsetting, but I hope that you will be mature about this sensitive situation. Please don’t throw a blizzard-tantrum. With any luck, we won’t have to deal with each other in a couple of months when you go south of the equator to harass your old girlfriends. Until then, let’s just put on a smile and make the best of it. Remember, this hurts me more than it hurts you.

Always in memory,

The Pop Quiz Kid