Spring Sprung and Broke in Two

And here I sit on a Saturday morning, the first day of spring. And I wonder aloud, "Is this really spring?"

And if so, if it really really is, I am glad.

"Spring," I say again, "spring." I honestly don't believe it. This is what I've waited for for months now and here I am, amidst spring. I can barely wrap my mind around it.

There's still snow here. There's still thick gray clouds in the sky. I'm still disbelieving of this whole "changing of the seasons" because personally, I don't feel any different.

I was hopeful that this whole spring thing would lighten my mood a bit, but it seems to be even more depressing.

Yesterday I had wished that spring would bring a whole new me to surface, with new friends, new love, a new outlook. But today the only thing resurfaced  was my lack of faith in everything.

I laugh in the face of spring. The idea that was so promising to me that I could almost feel it in my grasp. The idea that has now slipped through my fingers back into the muddy pile of snow at my feet, where it was born only days before.

Is spring what I'm really talking about? Kind of.

But not really.