Dear Winter: WE’RE DONE.

Dear Winter,

When we hooked up back in December, I thought we’d be good for each other. I’d had a pretty dry autumn, and I figured you were just what I needed. And at first, I have to admit, things between us were great. Your mere presence gave me goosebumps, you made my fingers and toes tingle, and and you often took my breath away. People would comment when we were together on how rosy my cheeks were, and how brightly my eyes sparkled.

But I’ve gotta be honest- I was under the impression that our fling would only last a few months. We’d enjoy the holidays together, and then I’d let you down easy, gradually, over the next couple of months. The trouble is, you won’t back off. You’re not getting the hint, Win, and your intensity is starting to scare me. Yes, at first, you made me happy– but now, after more than a few minutes in your presence…

I just feel numb.

You say I’ve become frigid. You’ve accused me of giving you the cold shoulder. Well, let me tell you, your nippy comments and frosty silences aren’t helping matters. Believe it or not, Win, six months ago, I was actually hot. No one could deny it. I was so hot, in fact, that I was sweating profusely most of the time. Now, after spending just a few months with you, look at me- I’m wearing three sweaters (not to mention hideously unattractive fingerless gloves) and I’ve gained ten pounds, just for the insulation. I need someone who can light my inner fire again, Win, and it’s pretty obvious you’re not the one for the job.

I’ve tried to have an honest discussion with you about moving on, but making conversation with you is like talking to a block of ice. So I’m going to lay it out.

IT’S OVER.

I’m breaking up with you, Winter. Seriously. I’m done. To the left, to the left and all that.
 
You have exactly 21 days to move out.

Warmly,

Lindsay