A Letter to November & December

Dear November & December,

I will admit that I've been holding back from writing this letter for a while now. I just haven't been able to put it into words. I don't know if it's because I have nothing to say, or too much. So I apologise if I have seemed to have forgotten about you, please don't take it personally. It's just that these past few weeks have been a total whirlwind and it has been hard for my head to keep up with how quickly everything has changed. It feels like I've been captivated into a blissful daze and found myself in a safe and calmly unfamiliar bubble, and to put it simply November, I got lost. I saw the sun rise and fall but I didn't acknowledge that time still moved and the world was still turning. It took a while but it's only now that I am realising that all the clichés are true. Before you came along I swore I would never be another victim but here I am claiming how easy it is to get lost in it once you've been bitten. And so I humbly apologise to all that I have abandoned, one being this letter. I truly hope you understand.

You have both been so good to me, I will always hold you dear to my heart. I keep thinking back to those days and all that accompanied it, and to be honest, I think I'll always go back there in my mind. Back to the beginning of secret stares with eyes that couldn't lie and sweet smiles that grew wider each time. To all the moments I spent laughing at jokes that only I found funny and rolling my eyes to the endless stream of sarcasm. Back to the moments when I was won over by that sweetest-dimple-exposing smile. When the nights consisted of constant laughter and teasing about different accents, cups of tea and silly debates over when to add the sugar. To all the many attempts of watching Harry Potter movies because distraction became a permanent friend. I'll still remember how those cold mornings became a constant struggle as the desperate urge to stay in bed was intensifying. Ultimately, it was a combination of late nights and early mornings, lost sleep and clumsy fallings. 

Before this letter comes to an end, I want to thank you from the bottom of my full and beating heart. Thank you for being the best to me and treating me with such care, for giving me the one thing I have always secretly craved. Thank you for your constant reminder that I am loved, even on my bad days and that the sun does rise and fall and I get to share them with my favourite person. But most of all, thank you for reminding me what happiness feels like. 

I owe you. 

Always, Ashlea 



Letter to February

Dear February,

We’re slowly reaching the end of our time together and you’re leaving me in a worst state than you found me in. You’ve taught me some things and won’t make yourself easy to forget. I know for a fact that your troubling legacy will live on through most of March; as you slowly disappear your aura will indefinitely linger. Like a ghost in the corner you’ll be watching over your remains, and a chill will run up my spine as I am reminded of you and the accident we embarked on together. I don’t blame you though, February, you don’t mean to be so cold. Maybe it’s from all the lost and faded hope that the previous months encouraged. Maybe it’s just the way reality and routine slowly starts creeping back in. But by being cold, you let others feel warm as they bundle up in their sweaters and scarves to protect themselves from your bitterness that can take their breath away. But primarily, you make us feel alive! We step outside and can feel your presence in the air, making us aware of our own breath, our purpose. Despite our age we still stand there for a moment and admire those little clouds of purpose that you help to create.

I hope you don’t feel lonely, February. I know I don’t spend a lot of time with you but you need to understand that I’ve learnt how dangerous you can be and how you can make everything go wrong in a matter of seconds. I’ve just been keeping my distance after you so effortlessly removed the wonderful feeling of independence and freedom, of whom I only just met. But the funny thing about you, February, is that despite your dangerous, icy conditions, you still have the audacity to shine. You are a juxtaposition at its best. And in spite of sitting here wondering if good things can happen without there being a detrimental consequence or without it being taken away so soon, I now realise that it’s only a change of direction to feel your warmth radiating. I don’t think you get told this a lot, but I think you’re beautiful. From the way you make everything look so angelic, and how everything you touch, glistens.

So like the bruises you left me with, it takes time to heal. I just hope that March is more comforting and can help fix the mess you’ve made. But for now, I’ll be picking up the pieces and hopefully when we meet again, I’ll be whole.


Always, Ashlea