the four seasons

By , Rochester Hills, MI
I watch as it falls. Time is stuck in this very moment and the glass swirls in the air fighting against the unseen force of gravity. Nothing can stop it. It falls and shatters into a million pieces, like a thousand fallen stars. It was my fault. It was my fault that it broke, that it fell, and now will never be the same again. I am shocked by the parallelism. The vase, my life, our relationship, all is broken. I reach down to pick up the fallen pieces and in my haste, I cut my hand. I slowly stand, watching the crimson blood trickled down my wrist onto the cold tile floor. It seems reasonable that I should get hurt. After all, life has a way of evening things out in the end. If only I realized… before it was too late.

The cool crisp September weather, not too cold where you might need a jacket, but chilly enough where you can hold someone’s hand and feel complete in their warmth. You told me it was your favorite time of the year. I never could understand you. You would always laugh at me when I insisted that summer was the best season. “Warm, I need the warm weather” I would say. You looked at me with your laughing eyes and changed the subject. You never did like to argue. I would always be the one to start a fight, I would be the one that couldn’t understand, or accept change. You were the one that would change as constantly as the leaves in September, maybe that’s why you enjoyed it so much.

The harsh biting January weather, so cold that all you wanted to do was stay inside, drink hot chocolate, and read a good book. You never liked the winter. You would complain how the winter looked “barren and desolate, where life seemed to be suck from the world and in its place remained a sullen gloom of slush and freezing temperatures”. You always had a way with words. Twisting them and turning them until they were arranged just right. I was always jealous of your words. I never could understand how you could paint such vivid pictures in one’s mind, how you could so beautifully state something that was awful. You never believed me when I told you this. You were always so humble and kind, maybe that’s why you hated the harshness of January.

The wet clean April weather, a time of rebirth and the start of something new and beautiful in the world. You told me that it was your second favorite time of the year. It symbolized the ability of something fresh. You took me outside one day and showed me the miracle of life. We explored the first signs of spring, the first blooming flowers, and hatching baby birds. I was surprised that I actually did like spring. I had always believed it to be a time of mud and pouring rain. But you should me otherwise. You always brought light to things, showing me something new. You always liked new things; maybe that’s why you enjoyed the beauty of April.

The hot blazing July weather, so scorching all you want to do is swim or stay in an air conditioned place all day. This was my favorite month. You would take me to the beach where we would build sand castles and eat ice cream. You laughed at me when I refused to get any flavor other than mint chocolate chip. I didn’t see the point in trying another flavor when I had already found the perfect one. You, on the other hand, would get a new kind every time we went out. The summer months were so relaxing and it felt as if nothing else in the world mattered. As if time had frozen and it was only me and you. I loved the calm and peaceful feel, that’s probably why July was my favorite month.

A whole year, 12 months, 365 days since we have been together, a total of 4 seasons. Things were falling apart. The seasons had changed, you had changed, but I. I had stayed the same. I could not adapt to your new likes and dislikes. In fact I hated them. We went out for dinner and talked, just talked. You asked me what was wrong; you noticed there was something on my mind. I was a coward. I was scared. I denied there was a problem. You bought me flowers on our way home. You walked me to my door, and I stopped and turned to you. Just turned, I couldn’t look you in the eyes. You deserved to be looked in the eyes. In fact, you deserved much better than me. I told you I didn’t love you any more, I told you we were done, I told you lies. You left me alone, alone at my house, alone in life.

I realize you left me the flowers. I get a vase...

And now I am left with the pieces. I don’t know what to do. I am confused. The world, my world, has been shattered like that vase. So I do the only thing left that makes sense to me. The only thing left that I can think of.

I sit on the floor…
And cry.





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