I actually used to love winters when I was younger. It was as if I could finally close the door and dabble with my own stuff for a while. Hit the snooze button on life outside. The darkness seemed to wrap around me in a comforting way. It’s only the past few years that I’ve started to dread winter, and it has probably got something to do about where I have been living. When it’s so windy you can’t keep it warm inside the house, when none of the boats are getting across shore, when your ears start buzzing in the end due to endless storms. Already in summer, I would start to worry about how I’d get through it another year.
For the first time I love summers more than winters. I love how they make me come alive again. How there’s all this magic in the air and there are fun happenings and strange coincidences and how you just laugh all the time. How the night never seems to end and how I wish it never would.
But… This time I’m thinking next winter may not be so bad. Perhaps because I have more people around me now. Oh, I know, as soon as darkness come, people will hide away again, and I’ll be a lot more alone, but it is as if I am anticipating something else too. Something more than settling for less, and something else than suffering from all those existential crisis’.
To me, it has something to do with the fact that I feel like I’ve blossomed, and I don’t think it’s just the warmth and the sunlight, it is as if I am different. I am expressing myself more freely and connecting with people more easily. Like I’ve come past a real heavy bump, and now I’m able to breathe again. I think this… Expressing yourself, being creative, keeping friendships alive, being silly and doing stupid things (that are fun), saying no when it’s not good enough and saying yes to all the rest. The past few winters have been rough. But I think the next one will be fine, for both of us! I just have a feeling it will.