Springtime Can Kill You
Dear Ali -
Springtime speeds things up. The warmth and the rain waken everything that slept through the winter. The birds fly madly about, twittering, looking for places to build their nests. I’ve heard the robins chirping even at two in the morning; springtime makes everything crazy. The flowers poke through the recently thawed earth, and the grass gets a little greener each day.
Springtime wakens me, too. It makes my thoughts race, and my heart beat faster. In spring, hormones course through my veins at three times the normal speed. Half the people I see in a day suddenly seem attractive, encased in the glow of spring sunlight. It is so easy for me to get heavy crushes during this time of year, the kind of crushes that punch me in the gut. There is none of the slow build of fall and winter crushes; or even the languid laziness of summer crushes, where you feel like you have all the time in the world, so why rush it? No, in spring, everything must happen now, this instant. If someone intrigues me, five minutes later, I am wondering what their lips would taste like, and I am thinking about inviting them to go to the park with me, to sit on the swings and drink cheap sangria.
Three years ago, in April, I developed a crush on Derry. I fell hard for that boy. He was a real Irish boy, with an accent that became more pronounced the drunker he got. He wore a coal-black scally cap atop his red hair; he had kelly-green eyes that twinkled like broken glass when he smiled his crooked smile. (x)