“You are like the winter wind. I don’t like you very much, you arrive in November, I celebrate my birthday in your presence. You wish me Happy Birthday by hugging me, sending chills through my entire being. Then we celebrate Christmas, running around covered from head to toe in mufflers and socks and gloves.
And just when I start getting used to you being around, you turn your back onto me and abscond, bringing flowers and greenery back that you had scared away.
I miss you a lot. I miss the hot chocolate that we used to have when we got too clingy, and the sweaters tucked away deep into the closet.
You’re gone for months, and our memories shared in the driveway are all that I have. The long months make me forget you, all too soon.
Little did I know my stoned-cold heart had been too warm. For you come back after eight long months, introducing yourself again.”
Vaishnavi Sanap is a fifteen-year old from Mumbai, India. She runs a blog of her own. This is her first publication.