Seasons of Love

To start 2024 on the right foot, here's a story about love, inspired by the song "Seasons of Love" of the Rent musical. Happy New Years!

It's easy to forget things. I often forget my keys and where I left them, lyrics of songs I've heard a thousand times, or whether I've taken my medication yet. I even forget the date, at times, but I will never forget us.

I had been a bit older than her when we first met. She was the younger sister of a friend of mine, and I knew the unspoken rule: she was off limits. It was hard to ignore her, with her bubbly personality and the ease she kept up with us when we hung out, whether it was playing video games, hiking, or drinking. I was drawn to her and that smile that made my heart skip a beat, yet I kept her at bay as much as possible. I was terrified my friend Levi would find out how attracted I was to her and that our friendship would not survive. In hindsight, I should've trusted our bond more and opened up earlier about my feelings; things would've gone differently and perhaps we would've had more time together.

Our lives moved in different orbits for a while. I stayed in touch with Levi, and with her by extension. She pursued her dreams, and I followed my own. We dated other people, but the thought of us together lingered in the background, like an unfinished melody waiting to be composed. The timing never seemed right, yet the connection persisted.

Years later, our paths converged again. It was a New Year's Eve, a night that sparkled with the promise of new beginnings. I had organized a gathering of close friends to bid farewell to the old year and welcome the new. As the clock ticked closer to midnight, I caught her eye across the room, and in that moment, it felt like time had folded, bringing us back to where we started.

We found ourselves on the balcony, away from the revelry, surrounded by the city lights that mirrored the stars above. The air was charged with anticipation, and I knew it was time to lay my cards on the table.

"I've been carrying this with me for too long," I confessed, my breath visible in the chilly night air. "I never stopped thinking about you, about us."

Her eyes were a reflection of the city lights, holding a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I love you. I've loved you through all these seasons of life, and tonight, on the brink of a new year, I don't want to hold back anymore."

There was a pregnant pause, and for a moment, I feared I was overplaying my hand. But then, a slow smile crept across her face, illuminating the darkness with its warmth.

"You know, I've never forgotten you either," she said, her words a melody that harmonized with my own. "I was always hoping you would find me."

As the clock struck midnight, we shared a kiss that tasted like the promise of a thousand tomorrows. The cheers from the party below blended with the distant fireworks, creating a symphony that celebrated not only the turn of the year but the revelation of our long-hidden truths.

From that night forward, our love story unfolded like the lyrics of a beautiful song. We faced challenges and danced through moments of joy. Each New Year's Eve became a milestone, a testament to the enduring melody of our love.

And as we stood every year on that same balcony, looking at the city lights, I couldn't help but marvel at the serendipity that brought us back together. Love, it seemed, had its own sense of timing, orchestrating a grand gesture that echoed through the seasons of our shared existence.

But the seasons of love, like the seasons of life, are not always eternal spring. The symphony we composed faced dissonant chords as challenges emerged, yet we played on, our love melody resilient.

As the years passed, we found ourselves navigating the inevitable autumn. A season where colors fade, and memories lose their sharpness. My love, once vibrant and present, began to slip away like leaves carried by the wind.

Levi, my steadfast friend, stood by us through thick and thin. When the first signs of forgetting appeared, he offered his support, having seen our love bloom from its inception. "I always knew you two belonged together," he'd say with a knowing smile. "It was just a matter of time."

Now, as the New Year's Eve approached once more, I stood by her side, my heart heavy with the weight of our shared history. The balcony that had witnessed our declarations now bore witness to a different kind of revelation.

I held her hand, the lines of age etched on her skin telling tales of a life well-lived. Her eyes, once bright with recognition, now held a distant gaze, the flicker of our shared past dancing in their depths.

"I love you," I whispered, a familiar refrain that, in that moment, carried the weight of remembrance.

She looked at me, the furrows on her brow smoothing out for a fleeting instant, hesitation transpiring through her shaky voice. "And I love you, too?"

I smiled through the unshed tears, a bittersweet recognition of the cycles of love and life. As the clock struck midnight, I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, vowing to remember for both of us.

The New Year's celebration continued around us, the world moving forward as our love story embraced its winter. Yet, in the quiet moments, as the last echoes of laughter faded away, I would hold onto our seasons of love, a cherished melody that time could never fully erase.