Spring, the season of new beginnings. Alone in the grassy fields searching for an answer to this state of dysphoria. There she was. A sudden gust of wind slashed her soft dress and silky hair, creating ripples that made her look alive. Her vibrant motion caught my attention, in a setting of absolute stillness. In a world of black and white, she was a walking 16-set pastel crayon that made me feel like a child again.
It felt like I swallowed a million cocoons, only to emerge into butterflies to flutter at the pit of my stomach upon watching her. With a spring to her step and eyes that speak to you as if they had a mouth. Her eyes spoke to me, telling me to fill the cracks on her fingers and skip along the rosy fields to live happily ever after. I was a grown man with an imagination akin to a fifteen year old girl. A daydream that swallowed me whole, snapping me into reality upon approaching me. She offered me a new beginning. I call her Spring, my girlfriend.
With a new beginning, there is an end. Here I am again, alone in snowy fields searching for an answer to this state of dysphoria. The hottest love have the coldest ends.