letter to october

Dear October,
Where have you been? It seems like these days, you're having a bit of an identity crisis. You see, you've been acting a lot like early September: petulant and tedious, torn between summer and fall, never sure of where it belongs. It has been September's cross to bear but not yours and I don't know why you've taken up the cause. All I can guess is that perhaps you've been feeling insecure. I'm sure you know by now what I said about April. That doesn't change the way I feel about you or rather want to feel about you. Don't you know that you're the snow to my Lorelai?

Oh, October we've been friends for so long, in London and Alabama and Illinois. I feared that perhaps you're affection for me had waned but then today, you returned to me ruffling my hair and reminding me why I've always loved you. It's the way the leaves begin to change, slowly and yet suddenly. You're a paradox, October; we ask you to be so many things to us. You shelter and hide us, allowing us to create characters from costumes. You give us deep oranges, pumpkins, cooler air and hints of mischief. Yet, you are in-between, not completely Fall, not exactly Winter. And I can understand why you feel conflicted with so many demands.

But do not take it out on us, those who have loved you for so long, October. Change with us but not to spite us. I will still love you best.