Abigail manes

Seasonable

With leaves falling everywhere and the wind getting sharper, I tend to think of him more. Snow and all its different variations, sugar with a little coffee and cream, checkered pajama bottoms, all of it ties back to him. I tell myself yearly that I have to let him go, that he can't consume my thoughts every day of every season. But it seems the only freedom I have from him is the summer.