Bookmark #183

The other day, I was walking back home, trying to untangle a knot of a thousand different thoughts. It occurred to me that I had never fallen in love in winter. It’s an odd thought, I know, but that doesn’t make it any less real. It is a strange thing even to occur, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.⁣

The few times that I did find myself falling in love in this short life so far were in spring or summer. Summer love is passionate, and you move fast because everything is so peachy and lovely. It’s the love made of sunshine and rainbows and cotton candy and cups of iced americanos. It’s made of long walks, but only in the evening; the sun is out and shining during the day. Summer love fades fast, too, in my experience.⁣

I’ve fallen in love on the onset of monsoon, too. The love of monsoon is well, wet. You’re always getting drenched and exchanging glances under a shared umbrella. Often, you’ll find yourself stuck in a bus stop or a car, and then, you’ll find yourself stealing a kiss here and there. Monsoon love has a sort of comfort when you walk together as it drizzles. It’s a love that’s fresh and a bit chilly but nothing that a hug or two can’t solve. It’s an odd sort of love with warmth sandwiched in between the cold.⁣

The love of autumn is subtle, and that too, I have had the pleasure of experiencing. When you fall in love with someone in autumn, all you can do is walk around with cups of cocoa or cocoa cappuccinos in your hands, crushing dried leaves. It’s the love the smells of cinnamon and pumpkin spice. In saying that, it’s exciting and different and has all sorts of notes to its flavour.⁣

As I thought of all of this, I realised I had never fallen in love in the dead cold of winter. I’ve only heard about it from friends, watched it in the movies, read about it in the books, but it’s something I’d never experienced. I wondered how that might feel as I entered my apartment, threw the scarf and the jacket on the couch, and started brewing coffee. I wondered how it might be different from all the others.⁣

“Perhaps, it’s the one that stays,” I chuckled and turned some music on as the aroma wafted through the apartment.

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