Dear Spring,
Hey. I've missed you. Like a lot. I was starting to think you'd never come back, but then here you are, showing your face again. Which is great, of course. But I have a question for you, and I think you should hear me out.
Why do you have to play so many games? It was almost 70 degrees out last week and then a couple days later it was 40. What is this shit? You show up, you say hi, hang around just enough time for me to start taking my clothes off, then you disappear! Without so much ask a word or promise of your return. The weatherman said it was supposed to snow next week! I know you've told me not to trust him because all he does is spread baseless rumors, but still. He's been right before, and quite, frankly I trust him a lot more right now than I trust you. You're unreliable, sneaky, temperamental. I don't even know why I put up with someone like that. I deserve better.
Summer is so much better to me. She is kind, sunny and you know what, she's hotter than you. There I said it. And winter's not exactly nice to me, but hey, at least he's usually consistent. At least I know when he's going to give me the cold shoulder. With you, I have no idea! You're hot, then you're cold. You're yes, then you're no. I always suspected that Katy Perry song was about you.
That's not to say all the times were bad. When I wake up in the morning and your warmth is there outside to greet me, there is no one I'd rather be with. I love it when we have warm showers together, and you always bring me flowers after. You can be really beautiful when you actually try, and that's when I remember why I keep coming back to you.
But if we're going to keep this thing going, I'm going to need a promise from you to try. No more teasing me with this 70 degree weather only to yank it away the next day. You may call that flirting, but I call it cruelty. I need some commitment, or at least to know what to expect. Otherwise I'm just going to leave you for summer in Florida. Do not think that's an empty threat. I can have Priceline open in seconds.
With love and only a little bit (a lot) of bitterness,
Amanda
