Have you seen him around?
The last time I saw him was on the water-logged softball field across from my apartment a week ago. I had tossed my brown Northface to the side and stood in the comfort of his rays for ten precious minutes before leaving to spend my afternoon in the back corner of a grocery store tucked away in the back corner of a small town next door to the back corner of Connecticut.
"Sun, I love you," I told him. "I lovelovelovelove you. You make me so happy. Thank you for being in my life. You are the only Valentine I'll ever need."
That's right. The sun is my perfect Valentine. He knows exactly how to put a smile on my face when I'm having a bad day. He can light up a room just by looking through the window to say hello. He's always ready with a hug and he never makes me cry. Whenever he says goodbye for the night, I know he'll come back soon. While he could never surprise me with chocolate or flowers, he brings out the best in me even when all I can see is the worst. What more could you ask for in a Valentine?
Did I ever mention I have a Valentine's Day curse?
It's true. Ending a relationship on February 15th probably can't be a sign of good things to come. Ever since then, not only have I been Valentine-less, but any hope my love life holds for the following ten months of the year is KO'ed--usually in an unnecessarily violent manner, always sometime in the month of February.
I probably should have thought about that before I shared my feelings with the sun. I think I scared him off. I probably came on too strong, too fast.
Either way, after I had gotten in my car and left, he quietly packed up his things and left town. No phone call, no note, no indication of when he might come back. The only thing he left behind was a tangled, windy mess of rain, snow, and gray melancholy that's managed to leave my emotions and spirit as empty, colorless, and transparent as my far-too-pale winter skin.
I think I've seen him a few times since then, but it never lasts. I'll see his face peek out from behind a cloud for a minute or two, and I'll get excited and hope that maybe he's coming back to stay. It's always short-lived, though, and I'm reminded that my awkward clumsiness in relationships is alive and well. I speak when I should stay quiet. I'm quiet when I should say what I'm thinking. Sometimes I miss cues, other times I jump too far ahead of myself. Without fail, I end up tripping and falling flat on my face.
I guess I can add the sun to my running list of February Fails. He gets the 5th spot on the big 4 year list, but skillfully managed to snag the 2nd for this year alone.
The good thing, though, is that the sun never leaves for good. He'll come back to me soon. He just needed some space, that's all. Can't say I blame him.
In the meantime, I really, really miss those hugs.