She reminds you of summer, you said. How her wavy hair and sandy skin are like the ocean and the beach and her radiant face, the sun. How her laugh makes you smile and feel okay, as if there are no more wrong things in the world. How she manages to make you feel safe, sound, and comfortable whenever she is around, like she is home.
But you, my dear sir, you remind me of the four seasons.
Winter. The way you look at me with that blank stare, sending chills down my spine. Your eyes telling me I should look away when our gazes meet because we are strangers. Two different people who happened to get the same class. It was not like we were going to be friends. No. The boundaries set between us are clear—you stay on your side, I stay on mine.
No interaction involved. No talking, no smiling, nothing. For the rest of the semester.
One day, I found you sitting beside me. No longer winter, you are spring. A few words exchanged here and there. We are at the point where we acknowledged each other's existence. I feel like we were given a new beginning, an actual chance to be friends. It was delightful. I am glad we are friends now, not just acquaintances.
I don't know how it happened, but we became good friends—talking about the most random things, teasing each other, laughing. Then I noticed your smile. How the corner of your eyes wrinkle when you do. How you look genuinely happy when you laugh. How you are one of the most sincere people I have ever met. This was when I realized, you are summer. You make me feel warm. You are the sun, always brightening up my day no matter how cloudy it may be. You are the ocean, making me feel relaxed with the sound of the waves hitting the shore, and the scent of the salt in the air. You are summer—happy, carefree, feel good summer.
I guess it's my fault why now, you are fall. Because feelings are never part of the plan. We are just two people who happened to be in the same class and became friends. I don't know why I never thought about you liking someone else. Maybe because you never seemed like that kind of guy—I thought you were just friends with every other girl. That is why deep down, I had hope that maybe, just maybe, you would like me back.
Written by Hannah Garcia.
