Contemplating the Seasons
by Annie


He likes spring. When everything dead starts coming back to life. It's warm, and sweet. Passionate, almost. Spring is alive with warmth and beauty. He thinks that JC is his spring. And that JC blooms like the flowers, but he just needs some warmth and care to do so.

He tries to be the warmth, the care, but it's hard. Because spring is deep and spring is loving. Spring is soulful and he knows that spring has fallen for him. And he doesn't know if he wants to fall in love with spring.

Spring is almost too beautiful for him.

Summer is hot. Summer is a blaze. He sweats with summer, and even though it's hot, almost burning, he can't get enough of summer.

Summer is wild and unpredictable. Then summer is tame. Summer is the wild card, the adventure. He never knows what summer will do next.

Summer is all about passion. About heat. Summer can never love him, for summer is far too wild. The heat drives summer. The heat is summer.

And he doesn't have to worry about loving Joey.

Summer never lasts long enough for him to get the chance.

Fall confuses him. It gets colder in fall. Then it gets warmer. And sometimes it rains.

The leaves change colors. Fall's leaves are always changing. He wishes he could know the true fall, but the leaves change too fast. He never gets to see the real color.

He never gets to know who fall really is.

Things start losing life in fall. Fall tries to hold on, but always fails in the end. Fall takes on too much.

Fall never knows when to stop.

And fall is almost incapable of love, because no matter what, fall always dies in the end.

And he knows that he can never see the true color of Lance.

So he doesn't even try to love fall.

Winter is cold.

The snow crunches under his feet, and the air nips at his nose. Winter sends shivers up and down his spine.

Everything about winter numbs him. He isn't sure if the numbness is good or not.

Nothing is alive in winter.

Yet every kiss, every touch winter gives... is somehow alive to him. So cold it's burning. Burning and aching to be alive. At least that's how he sees it, is that winter wants to live.

Because every now and then, there's a warmth in winter's eyes, and he can almost believe that he's the one that put it there. That winter wants it to be there. Chris doesn't want to be cold.

Dead inside.

He can almost believe it.

Almost.

He wants to love winter.

But he knows that winter will always be dead inside.

The solstice.

He loves the solstice.

It moves with grace, with beauty, like a dancer. The solstice is tender and gentle. Loving.

The solstice is the longest night of the year.

But it's still too short for him.

Because the solstice loves him back, and he finally thinks he has what he's been looking for when he's dancing with the solstice into that long, endless night.

And he knows Wade is the one.

But the solstice, that beautiful, never ending night... only happens once a year.

And he goes through the seasons, hoping that maybe one day spring will be more cold and winter will be more warm, and maybe summer will slow down and fall will speed up. And he always longs for the solstice.

And he never tells anyone what his favorite season is.

Because the answer constantly changes.