username; rabbit
name; miho
gender; male
story;
"So I know you love it when I write you letters, so I figured this would be the perfect way for me to send a message to your heart, even though it may be written in barely legible chicken-scratch.
You asked me one day, last year, why I looked so happy. You smiled as I blushed and jolted, nearly knocking my cup of hot cocoa over like a fool. I know I blurted out "winter is here," as I nervously messed with my hair, to which you commented that it was getting much longer, nearly the longest you've ever seen it before. It's been almost exactly a year since I had seen you last. You kept prodding as to why I was so happy that winter was here as if it were a secret that you just had to figure out.
Well, I guess I'm here to tell you why.
You see, it's a simple answer, not one that needs a lot of explaining, but while the answer is simple, the feelings and memories that come with it are most definitely not.
You see, sometimes people believe winter to be the end of many things, both in a literal and figurative way; but, as you know, I'm just a bit strange, and I don't see it that way. I see it as a beginning to many new things, a clean slate, a way to start fresh. Each year that winter comes along, you come back home to visit from your studies, and I can start myself afresh. Any worries or troubles I had earlier in the year just melt away, as you wouldn't know about or even care about what clothing I wore one month, who I used to date, what grades I got in that silly old man's class. I can tell you the things that make me happy and forget about the things that used to trouble me. It's like a way for me to start the soon-to-be new year with a clean state of mind. And in another way, you can do the same with me: starting fresh with a friendly face, one who wouldn't judge you for trivial things in the past, or things that you would prefer to be left at home.
People also tend to see winter as a season without colour and warmth, but honestly, to me, it's full of warmth and colour. Whenever I get to see you walk through the cafe doors, the little bell chiming as you pass through, it's like my world is blessed with a splash of colour and life. I feel the warmth as I clasp my hot cocoa just a little bit more-- or maybe that's the heat rising to my face? You always like to tease me about my tomato-red blush. Sure, the outdoors may be windy, cold, iced-over, even a little dead, but with you it only just reminds me of warm hot cocoa, sharing cozy scarves together, and the warmth of your smile as I fumble over my words yet again.
But as sad as it may be, there is one thing about winter that I'll agree with most on-- winter has to leave eventually, just like you have to return once again to your studies, far off in another country that I could only read about in books. You told me earlier that this visit would be your last, as you would begin your career there soon, and you would never know when you'd get time off again.
Truth be told, I was never truly happy that winter was here, but rather, that you were here. To me, winter was just another sign that you were coming back soon, so winter quickly became my favourite time of year; but now, that you will no longer come back, I felt that it was necessary to give you the answer that you had always wanted, about why I loved winter so much, before you left-- and took my beloved winter with you. However, maybe this time, winter would let me follow it for the rest of time, never leaving their side.
What do you say, do you think winter will let me follow them?
You know where to find me-- at our usual cafe, sipping a hot cocoa, just waiting for the bells on the door to chime as you walk in, only to snicker at my tomato-red face.
I love you, my winter.
- Your summer"
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