This Autumn, I'm writing a series of love letters: to the Universe, to myself, to friends and family, to strangers. Sometimes these are public, and sometimes private, but always from the heart. Here is today's letter.
When I look back over the past several years of relationships, I notice several trends: Relationships that start in the Spring fizzle out by Summer Relationships that start in the Summer are brief, hot, and fleeting Relationships that start in the Fall are stable, but emotionally unavailable Relationships that start in the Winter last the longest, but are the most toxic.
Needless to mention, I haven't had the greatest track record with relationships in the past seven years. A few long-term, a few like fireworks (up in the air! beautiful! gone!), and a few so intense I thought my lungs might collapse from the pressure. But you and I know how my relationships have gone lately, so no need to rehash them all. I've learned my lessons (all 547 of them, and counting).
But the thing I notice most about NOT being in a relationship this Autumn (which, by the way, is my favorite time of year to fall in love), is the closeness. I miss holding hands with someone on a walk through the falling leaves. I miss brewing tea for two. I miss the extra warmth under the covers when it is still too early to close the windows, but almost cold enough for another blanket on the bed.
So, dear Universe, thank you for all the lessons you have taught me about relationships over these past several years. I needed that wisdom to come to this place, here in a coffee shop on the first day of Autumn, where I realize that sometimes the little things, like a hand to hold or a friend to share tea, are the biggest parts of love.
And I have reached a place, in my quiet heart, where I am ready to share the sofa, find a blanket for two, and maybe even compromise on the windows, to have an extra heart to rest gently against as I watch the leaves turn.
Always open to new possibilities, Sara