Summer and You.

Winter's coming to an end. I can feel the sun tapping gingerly at the window, earlier than usual. I can feel the sweat gathering at the nape of my neck when you wake me up in the morning. It is going to happen and I can't stop it. It is going to happen... you are going to put away the blankets and the snuggles. There will be no more late-night hot chocolate treats in bed. The sun will force its way in and the room will somehow look emptier. Brighter, yes, but empty.

The winter is coming to an end, it is going to happen, but I want the time to stop for a while. I want my heart to store this warmth in the coldest place in my heart. I want to sleep in with blanket hiding us from the world. When summer comes, you'll still love me, right? Even when there'd be no need to hold me, you will still want to
hold me, right? Summer is unreliable, the opposite of home. It makes you want to leave, it makes you want run on the grass. It is going to happen, you'd want to run away, but you'll stay, right? For the next winter, and the next? For the sake of blanket snuggles and hot chocolate nights, yes?

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