Seasons

Winter.

I realized, laying here wiping the tears from my cheeks,

That it wasn't because I was sad.

It wasn't because I was lonely,

or anything like that at all really.

It was because for the first time in my life

I was happy,

Genuine and consistent.

The ice had thawed all the way through to my core

and I was holding on to the feeling so tight

I got scared I was going to squish it.

I should relax my grip,

I decided,

and that's when I started crying.

Because I am terrified happiness will slip,

like water,

though my fingers

and winter will come harden the ground again.

But that's the point isn't it?

The revolving door of the seasons.

The ground always thaws again.

Spring.