I’ve always had a strange relationship with April. One that both hurts and heals. One that excites me and lets
me down. It’s a month of perplexity, rainfall, a glimpse of sunbeams, and an eagerness that waits for June.
You see, April is famous for melting away my cool winter days, removing the tense bitterness I see and feel everywhere, but it always leaves me wanting more. It really brings out the impatience in me. It seems that April is a month of tricks and teases, beginning on its first day, considering it is a month that officially begins with fooling the lighthearted, the most gullible of people… and that is really just what it does to me. April fools me into believing that sunnier, more delicious days are right around the corner, while the clouds then blush and laugh at me, crying buckets of drizzle to rinse those hopes away. It puzzles me how sometimes the rain falls in a graceful pattern, and other times it pounds hard on my heart. How bizarre that the rainfall can both keep me up all night, while other nights, it can soothe me right to slumber.
It’s alright, I suppose. As I’ve grown up a bit, I’ve learned that April is a month of lessons. It teaches me to wait for what I want, while not forgetting about where I am and what it takes to get there. It gives me a taste of what’s to come, and it reminds me to hold on for sweeter days ahead. It reminds me that it's okay to just dance in it's glimmer. April is really just the beginning of a beautiful ride, and if I can just hold on through the rain, I’ve made it through the uphill climb.