Seasons of Us

She came at the end of winter — soft, quiet, unexpected.

Like the warmth of a candle in a cold room, she made everything glow.

We built our first memories in frozen air, our hands cold but hearts burning.

Then came summer — loud, alive, endless.

We laughed under skies that never seemed to sleep.

Every day felt like a promise that the sun would never set on us.

But autumn crept in quietly.

Leaves began to fall, and so did we — not all at once, but slowly,

the way warmth leaves the air when no one’s looking.

And when the rains came, they didn’t just fall from the sky.

They poured through me.

Every drop carried a memory,

and I stood there — soaked in what was left of us,

learning how to breathe again in the storm.