growing up in toronto i’ve always felt a sense of dreariness in the winter months. yeah, my birthday is in early january but i’ve had way too many birthday celebrations spoiled by the sudden storms. i joke to my mom that she cursed me the moment i was conceived in the humid warmth of guangzhou but chose to settle in the cold concrete city that is toronto, canada.
it’s sunny today and i feel as though the ice around me is melting away, ironically vancouver is so mild that toronto is experiencing much better weather as i write this. (and i remember sometime around this time last year, i met the person who has unknowingly(?), not-on-purposely(?), ruined me for the year.)
every year, i feel like a different person by the time april rolls around. warmth thrums through my veins, my music is lively and happy, and i want to experience the world again. at this point, i’ve sort of accepted that its just a part of my life. everytime i meet someone new who means the world to me, i beg them to stay through the cold and wait for me to defrost. most people don’t make it, most people can’t bear to see flowers wilt and die in front of them, but i don’t have a choice. i’m isolating and harsh in the winter, i cry to myself and rely on substances to lull me to sleep when the thoughts get too loud, i tend to view things with a sense of finality. this year, i spent my entire february reading break applying to transfer home and hoping that the person who had spent the entire summer trying to convince me to stay (and tried to bribe me to transfer home after first year) missed me even a little bit. not because i’m desperate or any bit hung up on our situationship(?)-friendship(?)-unhealthy codependent summer fling, but because he promised it would be okay and sometimes i’m naive and crave familiarity beyond logic. i needed someone to validate my insanity and clear the ice because we all crave a little warmth, after all.
i love spring because it shows me that i’ve made it another season. it proves that feeling blue is not just tears, rivers, and imessages that will never see the light of day, but that blue is also beaches with friends, concerts, and sunlight. i’m not lethargic anymore, i care to write again, i reach out to my friends back home, i facetime my younger brother and cry that i miss him and my family more than the world, but i am content because i look forward to imminent planes and city skylines.
if there were a way to skip winter every year i would. i wonder if it is normal to grieve a version of yourself for 5 months every year, if its normal to feel detached from your body and mind as you try to relearn happiness in the coldest months. i wonder if its normal to recede and do worse socially in university than in highschool, and i wonder if i should get used to loneliness and solitude. growing pains my mom tells me, you need to experience heartbreak-failure-sadness-regret to truly appreciate when good things occur, but i wonder when i’ll cease my defensive stance.
frost on the other hand is different than ice, frost is reserved; muted pastels and visible only because of a light sheen and collecting droplets. i may be scared of winter but i am much more scared of a permanent frost glazing over my hearts, actions, and drawing me further into the tundra. so when i talk about defrosting, i don’t just mean the winter glaze but i also mean the standstill emptiness that follows.
resentment is so bittersweet. anger is a tidal wave. right now i think i’m somewhere in between. if you scroll down 2 entries to my essay about love and then came back to this, it might just give you whiplash. i’d like to think i’ve grown, grown to love myself independently again, and to be more critical of good memories because every glued picture leaves that trace of residue. i don’t think that’s pessimistic to say, rather it is realistic in a world of tinted rose lenses, and craving connection more than caring for yourself. i swear i won’t let it happen to any of my friends, and i have more appreciation than ever for clara and derek for viewing the relationship critically instead of allowing my innocent happiness dilute their disdain. so, as therapy, here’s a list of things i am angry about:
- i will never get to experience a first relationship without it being tainted by the sorta-coulda-woulda of this one.
- i will never get to experience the first meet the parents moment on either side, and see my dad so excited to meet someone i enjoyed, and see my grandma rush out of her bedroom without her wig just to say hi.
- i am forever too scared to introduce a partner to my brothers now, you robbed me of the joy of seeing that happen for the first time because it meant so much to me and you spit all over the it, and to believe you guys have a nearly-matching outfit now.
- sharing playlists. you scare me, you did it again too. playlists were my love language, then they were ours, and now they are only yours.
- i am so scared of codependency, i am so scared of being unable to read the signals, and i am in need of so much validation before i dare let myself think of of any specific way.
- i am angry that you would allow us to talk about, although by proxy, the ideal age i’d want to get married, engaged. what home i would like to live in, how many children. don’t you think those details were too intimate to share to “a friend”? (i don’t want to get married at 27 anymore)
- i will never introduce someone to my friend group again just so i could be happy with your presence around me.
- i can’t ever go to that PC cafe we shared our last day together.
- how do i get over the fact that you would brag about my program to your mom, your brother told me he approved of me, you would drive my car, and yet you couldn’t make up your mind? how much is too much?
- i will never allow myself to get in a relationship before summer because the fear of temporarily and long-distance will haunt me forever.
- i am angry that you replaced me so easily, i meant something to you but i did not mean enough. i once wrote a poem that said you mention me but you don’t speak of me. what version of me did you tell your new girl friends at western?
- not to mention the amount of songs. yelling baby in the car, ruined. singing i love you 3000 on the day it all started when you drove me home after dinner and your pc, ruined. the playlists we made for each other, the fact you still have my playlists liked?
defrosting is a chance for new beginnings. right now i have hope again, i carry happiness just a bit longer; just this once, i’m getting better i swear.
<3