Dear Sun,
I wouldn't say I like winters; Nature in winter is a time of struggle and beauty. Winter signals the end of a long productive year. Plants shut down. Making food, animals migrate to warmer climates and humans snuggle up and stay indoors. Yes, I copied a paragraph. I never loved winters, I think winters are raw, rude, and rough, like the emptiness when your best friend leaves you, like the numbness when your expectations fall, like the disappointment when you try your level best but fail to accomplish happiness, like the heaviness when your thoughts collide against each other, like the sadness that comes after, it got a snatching power and I fear winter for the sole reason, I fear winter, I wouldn't say I like winter because of the craving of finding a blanket to warm me, to cover me, to hide me. But you loved winter and I could tell why, maybe the snow I thought tears were flowers for you, the emptiness was fluffiness' for you, the numbness was enthusiasm for you, the coldness was not rude to you, it was just like a serene breeze of happiness to you, the dryness wasn't in your throat like mine but the filled up to the bream feeling after having water to your quench your thirst. I admire it. Not the winter, but you in the winters, how much your eyes dilate, and your pupils quiver standing under the snowfall. You know what love is standing between all the things you ever despised in your life but realizing you can bear it. You can bear it just because even after experiencing a messy world, a sweaty and gross incident you would still stand frozen just because your heart will explode. What is the bigger feeling? Hatred or love. Love yes love. I sound cheesy. But it is what it is. What does your entire being want? Standing in between all the craziness you never loved or standing just because of that someone despite all these. I realized that very winter evening under the snowstorm that I had fallen for the man being surrounded by everything I never liked. I loved you more than anything else. I was enchanted not by the winters but by the man standing in the winter. You.
Yours Sunflower