I think I’ll let you go now,

And for once, it doesn’t sting to say it.

I think, for a long time,

I’ve been letting you go anyway.

At first, with clenched fists,

Nails digging into the edges of time,

I gripped you like you were life itself,

Like letting go was a kind of death

That refused to die.

I held on to you

As if you were the endless summer,

And I, someone who hated the cold.

But in my devotion to your sunlit glow,

I forgot the seasons of me.

I thought I despised the snow,

But when it finally came and went,

I realized it had beauty too,

A quiet rhythm I had never let myself know.

I think I’ll let you go now,

Not with guilt for the time I spent

Wishing for summer skies,

But with peace,

Knowing I was always meant to be fall.

Just because we’re not in love anymore

Doesn’t mean I never loved you at all.

But I can’t keep trying to be sunshine

When there are snowmen to build

And flowers to water—

Even in the searing heat,

Some things can’t survive.

My hands are tired

From always holding back,

Always pretending warmth

When winter demanded stillness.

If winter is measured by summer’s fire,

Its gentle chill will always seem less,

But that doesn’t make it unworthy

Of the holidays it holds,

The warmth of fireplaces and Christmas lights

That glow in its embrace.

You wanted an endless summer vacation,

But I was never a season to date.

I think I’ll let you go now,

As I watch my leaves turn gold.

The weather is changing,

And in that change,

I’ve finally learned the truth:

If I had stayed summer,

I would never have known the quiet beauty of fall.

I would never have met the wonder of winter,

Never have felt the renewal of spring.

I would have never truly known myself at all.