Thursday, March 24, 2011

The Ultimate Betrayal

This is the ultimate betrayal in a once wonderful relationship. I’m talking about winter. And I will be as direct as I can be. We are no longer friends and will never be again.

Hub bladed out that long strip of snow in front of the house and for a few days the sun shone till bare grass showed through. And just when I thought I could use that lovely strip for a few putts, you plugged it up again.

You’ve even changed that dry crisp air, that I could muffle myself against on the coldest day with down jacket and three pairs of pants to a moisture-laden coldness that seeps through everything. That climbs right into the marrow of my very bones and now – even if I do no more than glance out the window, my teeth chatter and my blood gels.

I generally can walk away from a bad thing and wait for it to cool. But not with you. You are too cool for that kind of resolution. And so, rather, I simply have no choice except to be as bitter a fiend as you are.

And so, I want you to know, that I will never again walk on snowy trails and sing because even my voice in the still cold air has a sweet kind of clarity that surprises me. And I will never make fresh prints in your blankets of white and think about the wonder of newness and the glory of having walked where no one walked before.

I will never suck in your crisp cool air and think of it, as I so often have, as lovely as the bouquet of well-chilled wine. And I will never watch in wonder the symmetry of over-large snow flakes descending from the sky.

I will never smile again with pleasure at the flash of so many flawless diamonds in your morning glow.

Oh ‘tis true, on the outside, you look stunningly beautiful. But on the inside you are wicked, mean, and nasty, and completely capable of being the worst kind of villain. I am so done with you.

Friends? No. No more. Not ever, ever, ever.

I have learned to love mud. Gooey sticky mud. And rain, and thunder-storms, and flies, and mites. Even mosquitoes. I won’t even flinch when they all zone in. I can take it.

But what I can’t take, is anymore of you.


joared said...

Oh, you're as cold, harsh and frigid as winter. So winter overdid it a bit this year -- repent your words -- give winter another chance ... next year!

Roberta S said...

joared, your suggestion is well taken, but not so easy to do. I will have to think long and hard on that one. May have a change of heart when my toes and fingertips thaw. Seems like winter and I have had our differences before and if I remember correctly, the relationship is pretty lopsided. Seems I'm always the one that is so forgiving. :)

Pauline said...

Boy, when you fall out of of love, you fall hard! But has Winter fallen out of love with you? Seems like he's still trying to wrap his ermine-clad arms around you. You might want to part friends, though, as I'm quite sure he's planning a new assault on your psyche come next December... some guys just don't know when to give up!

Roberta S said...

Hi Pauline. You are so right. He's back at it again, buffeting the house and deck with more wind, more snow, more you say, wanting so desperately to again wrap me in 'his ermine-clad arms'. (love that description)

Joy Des Jardins said...

Well Roberta, I can certainly understand your sentiments. I can't say that Winter and I are brutal enemies; but we're certainly 'on the outs.' He's shown himself to be quite stubborn, relentless, and uncompassionate during his time; and how can he expect any of us to befriend him and welcome him with open arms when he decides to visit? This past visit...and many of us are not sure he's actually left...was quite disruptive and unforgiving. He was very abusive as friends go. I think he thoughtlessly hurt many a feeling and burned many a bridge with his enormous ego. I for one am NOT on speaking terms with him. He's got some serious making-up to do. ~Joy

Roberta S said...

Joy, I find this a stunning comment. I have never, ever, heard you speak of anything or anyone with the slightest disdain. Only the nastiest of the nasty could bring you to this expression of utter disappointment. And now I am madder than hell to think the brute even pressed you, with your consistent wondrous good nature, into a snarky mood.