I am a seasonal being

I am a seasonal being.

Wait, I forgot to add human.

So actually, I am a seasonal human being.

What’s the difference, you ask?

Well, a seasonal being changes every season, inside and outside.

But a seasonal human being?

Sometimes we change only on the outside. Sometimes, only on the inside. And sometimes both.

The changes are constant. That’s just how life works.

Seasonal beings understand that.

Seasonal human beings… haven’t.

But I think we will.

The thing is change for us is still a shock.

And the worst part? 

We don’t have a defense ready.

Apart from crying, of course.

Which, again, is subjective. Because men "don’t cry" It makes them weak.

And women are weak, so they cry.

Or so we've been told.

Some of us develop defenses, though they’re not always healthy taking it out on others, starving, bingeing, self-harm, even suicide.

And some of us just exist while everything around us keeps changing.

We tell ourselves we’re excited about change.

We admire other seasonal beings:

“Spring will come,” we say.

“Autumn is just a phase.”

Blah blah blah.

We try to learn from them.

But did we ever really learn anything?

Wait! aren’t we also seasonal beings?

So why didn’t we try learning from each other?

We innovate everything else.

A wheel became a cart, a cart became a chariot, and now we have rockets.

So why didn’t we try to make a better version of ourselves when it comes to change?

Sure, we accept change when it’s about new places, new people, jobs, or relationships.

But what about those times when I’m just sitting, staring into the abyss

Because something inside me is broken?

And sure, the rainbow after the rain fixed things on the outside.

But who’s going to take care of the inside?

We all go through the same storms, just at different times and intensities.

But we’ve failed to learn from each other.

Why?

Because we’re not afraid of change as much as we’re afraid of being vulnerable about change.

For the outside, I’ll tell everyone

“My relationship ended.”

I’ll let the rainbow after the rain fix that part.

Everyone thinks I’m doing better.

But on the inside? I’m bitter.

Every bouquet of flowers, every favorite hangout spot, every mention of love makes me ache.

And if someone notices the change in me, tries to tell me it’s okay—

I apologize.

I shut them down.

I smile and say, “After the rain, there’s always a rainbow.”

But inside, the thunderstorm rages.

And I hide it because no one else talks about theirs.

Only writers and artists know thunderstorms, right?

So maybe it’s not real.

Maybe it’s just me.

But no.

The rainbow is real.

And so is the thunderstorm.

Just because no one told you it’s real doesn’t mean it isn’t.

You are a seasonal human being.

You think the rainbows are for everyone and the thunderstorms are only yours.

But in truth, the storms are everywhere. And the rainbows too.

It’s just that people only talk about the rainbows.

And I hope

I really hope

You’ll talk about the thunderstorm too,

when the next season comes.

                                             - Sejal