Winter is harsh. Inverse to shock. I remember the feeling of being stabbed, and that was this winter. Sanded down like rocks in the ocean tide, but still there, still heavy, tinging your skin ice cold.
We got snowed in for two weeks. I barely noticed.
I felt empty in Winter.
Spring is loud. Slow, at first, like a car wreck from the inside, and then suddenly it's over, and you don't know where you are anymore. It was distant, though, like feeling the world through a blanket.
I spent most days ignoring the phone, occasionally forcing myself to get up and eat something. I spent everyday exhausted from morning to night, mind racing but bored to death.
I overflowed everyday in Spring, waiting for it to end.