*F-BOMB ALERT* – CONTAINS (more) COARSE LANGUAGE (than usual)
I’m not quite sure how to tell you this.
I know we’ve been seeing each other for fifty years, but I have to admit that for me it’s been more out of habit than any real affection. And lately I’ve realized I want… more.
Maybe I shouldn’t have read all those self-help books, but it’s too late for regrets and what-ifs. Now I can’t help analyzing our relationship, and the more I think about it the more I realize what a vicious, controlling bastard you really are.
Oh, you hide it well. You pretend you’re all about new beginnings as you usher the kids off to a new school year. You’re everybody’s favourite season, with your handsome colouring and irresistible scent. They don’t realize you’re hiding your heartless personality behind that pretty façade.
Well, I’m onto you. You’re a actually the sociopathic poster child for dysfunctional relationships. You act sweet, but you sneak into my garden and kill my plants when I’m not looking, you force me to wear ugly bulky clothes, and you systematically isolate me from all the things I love.
Plus I’ve finally figured out it’s no coincidence that my dearest love, Summer, always vanishes when you show up. For years I thought it was just Summer’s way, to love me and then leave me with memories so sweet I couldn’t help but fall for him all over again when he reappeared.
But now I know that you’re the one who drives him away. What do you hold over him, you son of a bitch? What leverage could you possibly have that would make him disappear without a trace for months at a time?
I’ve got news for you, Autumn, I don’t care if Summer has other lovers. I don’t care if he loafs around and goofs off work. I don’t even care if he sometimes burns me.
All I know is that Summer encourages me to get out and have fun with my friends, he likes it when I wear shorts and tank tops, and he’s out there with me every single day in my garden. Summer encourages me to eat right and take care of myself, too. He brings me all kinds of delicious healthy fruits and veggies, but he’s not a stick-in-the-mud – he makes sure I get to enjoy lots of treats like ice cream and cold beer, too.
And then you come along and spoil it all.
Well, I’ve finally had enough of you. It’s over between us. Pack up your pretty clothes and get the hell out of my life.
Oh, and by the way? Take your rotten sidekick Winter with you when you go. He’s all sparkles and charm until he convinces me to go out, and then he gives me the cold shoulder. And you can tell him this for me: that white-on-white look went out with the last episode of Fantasy Island in the 80s. It doesn’t make him look sophisticated; it just shows he has no imagination. You two are real pieces of work, you with your garish wardrobe and him with that weird monochrome thing going on.
Both of you can go take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut.
With the utmost sincerity,
* * *
A couple of days ago I was bemoaning the impending loss of my garden and I took this photo:
This morning I woke up to this:
But just because I can’t bear to leave this post with such a repulsive image, here’s what I rescued before the snow started to fly: