Seasonally

I met you in the breaks of winter. A chill in the air, prompting long sleeve shirts and shivers, sitting on the piling of the causeway, conversation and comfortable silences marking our first meeting – your foot brushed mine and I remember the glow of my blush, matching the brilliant fire of a sun slipping beyond the horizon, out of reach. I remember my thoughts of you that night, after I dropped you off at home, thinking that there was something special there, something determined, unique and varied. Wondering if you were out of reach, or if the coolness of your fingers could mesh with mine in a journey that would span the reach of a multitude of seasons to come.

Spring hit with all the flurry of the natural world, and I fell for you then, a gradual process that didn’t take place all at once, but in graceful slips and falls over mountain paths. Butterflies and dragonflies and birds echoed as we made a nest for ourselves in that old apartment, tumbling down around our heads, unnoticed. We spent weekends as getaways, venturing out for walks after the sun dipped below the surface, hand in hand, laughter, movies and cuddling and nights of passion that still graze my memory and leave me breathless. I remember everything love, the first times, the first tastes, the first treasures of memories that carry forward without interruption.

Summer was a time of trial, it seems…it began with accusations in drunken frenzies when we were carried apart by a tidal wave that spanned much wider than the two of us, but your fingertips brushed mine and held on tight, and we carried each other through the current, taking turns leading, following. Joining together in a defiant wake, melding into each other, building a home, laughing over hanging pictures. It was a time of stress, yes, but also a time of quiet calm, a building into each other, the beginnings of our true foundation. We left our original nest which was mine alone – you simply visited from time to time and left pieces of yourself all over like hidden treasures I could fawn over in the spaces of absence. But together, we built a foundation through the hottest months, erected walls, ceilings. Beautiful architecture and soaring dreams. We asked questions, made plans, smiled. We enjoyed the simplicity of love among the complexity of outside forces that drove us like herded cattle towards each other – not away. It’s never worked that way, before. Not before you.

The fall will bring promises and binding papers, a small and quiet ceremony in front of very few – more to come, later. It’s the promise of whatever may, doesn’t matter. Things seem to take on a different glow – a different perspective, and a new reality when faced with the way things are, the way they will be. The way I can’t wait to begin. Our journey to that place and time has already started. Truthfully it began way back when in Winter. Who knew that when our hands accidentally brushed then, that they’d be joined in a more permanent fashion sooner than we might have dreamed, then. Loving you has changed everything, and made the passage of seasons into the way it was always meant to be. Loving you has showed me the power of life, the power of love and the power of determination in spades. Loving you has made me live.

Fall will fade to another winter, and we’ll find solace in raised thermostats and couch cuddles – we’ve never been lax on generating our own kind of heat. And I still burn for you now, like a kindled kitchen fire that goes from roaring flame to glowing ember – always hot, always ready.

Always yours.