Spring

We fell asleep in frosty beds and awoke to a sun-kissed spring. It was the kind of day that makes your heart ache. Six months of cold and you almost forgot what warmth from the sun feels like. But the second it touches you, flows over your skin like warm water in the shower, you remember. Trips to the beach in your bikini. Bare shoulders smoldering under the full heat of the summer. Golden sunsets and the thick scent of burning wood. Looking up at the stars and feeling like anything in the world is possible.

It’s spring and your heart feels so open. You’ve lived through thirty different springs and somehow, they’re all the same. Driving home with the windows cracked, you can feel each one of them pass through you and swirl away with the wind. Eight, sixteen, twenty-four. Every spring brings longing and hope. Nostalgia for something you can’t quite put your finger on. You want to go back and you want to go forward. You want to wrap your pale arms around the entire planet and just hold on for awhile. Wait until this impossible feeling of lightness and heaviness melts in the summer sun.

It’s spring, and winter is already a distant memory. Was it only days ago that snow fell heavy under the streetlights? It’s so easy to forget, isn’t it? And now, you can’t imagine anything but the happy sight of gray stalks and patchy grass along the freeway. You can’t imagine anything but this moment, this overwhelmingly beautiful moment, when it’s just you and the spring.

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