People try to bottle up emotions, as if it’s wrong to have a natural reaction to life.

You know that feeling.

That one that pierces your heart as soon as you notice the leaves starting to change color. The stirring in your breast as you realize that it’s time to break out the mugs of spiced apple cider and hunker down cozily around a dancing bonfire. It’s almost like nostalgia is dripping through your veins like an IV needle, slowing you down and forcing you to actually see what you’re walking by and feel in response. The leaves fall and their constant rustling is a lullaby that rocks you to the core and makes you realize that every end is also a beginning. Whatever came with summer is gone but that doesn’t mean that autumn can’t give you something even better.

You know that feeling.

That one that surges through your veins with anticipation as you take a few more steps closer to that huge puddle that you can’t resist jumping in. Your rain boots poised at the edge of the unknown and your fists clenched as you prepare for launch. A smile slips to your lips because, even though you know you’re going to get soaking wet, it’s going to be worth the rush of dopamine that slaps your synapses. Spring has a way of exciting your neurons like they are being attacked with a defibrillator to rescue them from the comatose wintery state. Coming back from the dead is a high energy expenditure though and the muddy paths prove that you don’t exactly cross back into this world looking pretty.

You know that feeling.

That one that seeps into your skin like poison, dulling your senses as the rays of yellow sunshine pour into your pores. Your skin looks like it’s cast in gold — and it feels like it too because you are bound by the warm embrace of Helios. It leaves it’s mark upon you, scorching your tender flesh until it’s red as a hot iron and scarring in shades of toasted marshamallow, anywhere from golden brown to burnt black. It’s one of those feelings where you know that you shouldn’t linger any longer and you should stop toeing the line so that you don’t accidentally slip, but it’s intoxicating. The summer reminds you that you have all the self-control in the world but you can’t quite grip it in your sweaty, sunburnt hands.

You know the feeling.

That one when the cold seeps into your bones and huddles there, rubbing it’s cold fingers against your spine until you shiver. Good or bad, you can’t tell. Winter is the season of extremes, whirling a storm of emotions inside until you get numb from the intensity. Oddly enough, you like it that way. Deep down, you don’t fight the freeze because if you go so far, if you can drink in the snow till you get drunk, there’s a warmth at the end that burns like blue fire. There is only one remedy: hot chocolate. The first sip tingles your tongue with teasing sweetness and the thawing of your throat as it slips down is so gentle that you don’t even realize that you are warming up until you’re at the ideal temperature.

Fall may be for new beginnings, spring for the reincarnation of the ugly, summer for the delightful death of us all, but winter is the season that reminds you that you’re alive.

I know you know the feeling.

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