Sunday, October 14, 2012
As Seasons Change
I chose winter for our wedding because I think it's such a romantic time of year. I wanted to celebrate every anniversary by a fire next to my husband more and more in love with each passing year. I'm not the least bit surprised that the loneliness is more intense as the season changes, but there's something almost romantic about the loneliness too. There is nothing like a break-up to remind you you're alive, with a heart that beats and can be hurt. And there's nothing like a cold night to bring out the ache.
With winter, though, comes life's comforts. A warm blanket, a bright fire in the fireplace, Coffeemate's seasonal Pumpkin Spice creamer, thick socks and beef stew. I'll spend most of the winter bulked up in sweatshirts and clothes that don't fit or flatter but at least once during the season I'll get to break out my cherished over-the-knee faux suede boots and bask in the attention that they command. We'll hang our stockings in the bar and Donny will bring in a box of peanut butter Dewar's chews and coffee will brew every day and I'll reminisce over the many holiday seasons I've spent there and how there's nothing quite like Christmas time in a neighborhood bar.
Winter's romance isn't limited to having someone there to share it with. I've spent plenty of winter's alone. Last winter Ben and I were essentially alone in our marriage, having drifted so far apart I think part of us both knew it was beyond salvaging. The winter ideal, I think, is also built in its promise. The cold won't last forever. Our hearts will eventually stop hurting. Somehow, when the nights are the longest and the coldest it's okay to have dreams and desires and it's safe to believe that the sun will shine again