Falling in Love with Summer

Finally, the last day of summer was here. I gazed at the man that I fell in love with in only one season. His brown eyes had become inflamed with streaks of red lightening. His demeanor was not anything that I had fallen in love with. His heart was distant. Our love that began like morning dew, was now filled with a treacherous storm. This storm would separate our love and leave us with our own questions to rebuild or live with defeat. Somehow I knew that without a hesitation that our love would exceed beyond one season.Summer tried his best to hide the secrets I had dug deep to see. From my expression, he knew that I was ready to evolve into a new season, alone. As midnight came, so ended the season of summer. I pleaded with him at the beginning of the season to follow my lead, but there wasn't a change in our forecast of love in sight.Although, I was leaving, my heart prayed that he would heal over the winter. Before we parted, he cradled me as tight as he could and finally walked away with more of my hope that his own. One day in a new season of winter that struggled to release it's clench, our love awakened by a shimmer of hope. In faith I reached out my hand toward Summer and he clenched it tight. It was as if our love was reborn. Once we departed, I waited for the next season of Summer to arrive. As the seasons changed, I would get a false sense of anticipation creating bouts of stimulation and excitement that he would make it back into my arms. And then one early spring morning there was a knock at the door. I was sure that it was Summer, but it was too early in the year for his return...