Winter

I'll admit that this is a selfish piece. I'm writing this because I want to remember what winter is like, I want to remember in 6 months this exact feeling. I want this to be real to me when I read it again. So how about I write a letter to myself. That's ridiculous. Nevermind. Perhaps this could help anyone who's living in the summer. Maybe I'll pass it off as that. Yes, I will. Here it is.

The grass is dull here. The grass looks entirely crushed, like a pickup truck ran over all of it. Everywhere. The sky too. Yes, a pick up truck ran over the entire sky. I'll admit that at night time the stars have been beautiful. Sure. But then I remember that feeling of night times after the beach. Of coming off a day feeling like a god. The beauty of the bright sun burning still from your skin. Like the sunlight is in your veins. Ah, how I love that. So much. But that's impossible now. Even on the same beach. Things are cold. Days are short. Distracting yourself from missing the summer doesn't go too bad, until you think back on it. Things are getting done, and school's being school. Skin. Oh, skin is the real killer here. Pale is more than normal. It's everywhere. People are bundled up. Whispered at by frost and nibbled by strange wind. And under it all our skin loses itself. It seems to draw in, to pull back like a dog from fireworks. How often to you even see your skin? You look down at your arms and realize how sad they look. You find yourself in a mirror and see the eternally-sleepy winter face on your head. Who ever thought this was a good idea? Winter? Sure, christmas is great. But what if we celebrated it by cooling off in an ocean and playing some solid beach volleyball? Perhaps there are small things that bring us smiles in these annoyingly bright winter days, but come now. Am I the only one who, when the sun shines in winter, wishes I could just go ahead and put the sun away in the top shelf of the closet. If it's going to be winter, let's make it real winter. Save the sun for when it's real. Save it for the summer sunsets. Save it for the days when you can almost hear the heat in the air, right behind the waves and the giggling sand. Save it to bleach hair and lighten paint jobs. Tell me summer, where can I go to find you always? And when you tell me where, can I follow that up? Can you find me someone to go with me? Always?