my winter and summer

I loved him like I love the winter. That's what he made me feel like when I thought of him. I thought of him and I thought of Christmas, soft blankets, and lazy rainy afternoons. He made me feel warm. Not a sunny warm, a snug and cosy warm like on a freezing midwinter's day. When you are cuddled up indoors, a blanket wrapped around you and the fire crackling, with a orangey tinged light and everything smelling like apple spice, well that's how he made me feel. Whether we were under the covers in our underwear watching a shitty SiFi film he said was amazing in the middle of summer, or eating dinner across from his parents with dull classical music playing softly and Christmas lights everywhere, because it was in fact Christmas time, that's how I always felt when I was with him. I felt like Christmas eve.

I love her like I love the summer. She's the long summer break everyone waits for, longs for. She's sweet like ice cream and warms me like the sun on black jeans. I think of her and I think of long country walks, picnics with strawberries, glistening clear blue water, and cloud free skies. Her face is bright, a reflection of exquisite summer flowers and fresh fruits. We could lay on my cool bed sheets under a dull light, and I could feel the same warmth as when we were besides each other, our heads upon the fresh green grass, with nothing but the heat of the sun on our bodies. She makes me feel like a sunset after a long summer drive.

The only problem with choosing between winter and summer is; winter can get awfully cold when the fire dies out, and summer can become very dark when the sun stops shining.

He was my fire, but the spark turned to ash.

She is my sun, but winter is soon. And although the sun still looks magical shining through the red and orange leaves, I long for the warmth of a fire in the snow.