Spring, where are you? Seriously. Where? It’s okay if you’re drunk, I’ll come pick you up. You can always call me, no matter what. I’ll come get you. I won’t even be mad. Just tell me where you are and I’ll help you get home safely.
Because if you do not call me ASAP and/or get your butt over here, you are in big trouble, Spring. You heard me. Big. Trouble.
I need more sleep and better weather. LLF and Captain Jack are conspiring to prevent the first, so you’d better come through with the second, Spring. Do you think it’s funny to toy with me? To lead me on and then turn your back on me? Well it’s not.
If you don’t start behaving more like a gentleman then we are done. Done I say. I will leave your sorry self and move right on to Summer. But don’t make me do that. I like you better than Summer. Summer is too hot and sticky and smells kind of like dog pee. But at least there is color and sunshine and something besides sleet. So while I will never have the True Love that I could have with you Spring–the flirtatious glances, the soft breezes, the gentle rain on the crocuses–I will settle. I am not getting any younger, and I will settle for Summer if I have to.
Don’t make me.
xoxo, Forever Yours, K