Seasons change; people change

Dear Winter,
We need to talk.
I know what you're thinking. I can see it in your eyes. You're worried this is one of "those" talks. And, well, it is. Because as important as you are to me, I think it's time I moved on.
I'd like to start seeing other seasons.
Hey. No. Don't do that. Come on. Dumping six inches of snow on everyone isn't going to change things. You can't hide the distance that's grown between us. You can't bury feelings under ice crystals. Things between us have grown cold, and I need something warmer. Something greener. Something that doesn't cause me to injure my back heaving wet snow off my sidewalk.
We had some good times, Winter. Remember a few months ago when I slipped on some ice and got bruises all up and down the side of my body? That was a hoot. I ached for days.
But, Winter, I need to move on. I'm a different person now than I was five months ago. I'm in a different place. I've put away my shovel. I've stored my bag of sidewalk salt. I bought a garden hose. I bought a lawn mower. That means I need a lawn, Winter. And I'm never going to have one if you don't stop dumping snow all over my yard. Given my past demonstrations of gardening skills I might not have one anyway, but you've got to let me at least try to grow.
I've got my bike out, Winter. You know what that means? It means slushy streets and sub-freezing temperatures are not cool. Spandex and sleet do not mix, Winter. I need you to understand that, because the way I've been eating these last few months — it's because I'm uncomfortable around you, I think — I need to get out there and get some exercise.
It's not just me, Winter. You've worn out your welcome here and people are starting to get uncomfortable. They're too polite to say anything, but there are a lot of people who are ready to trade in their boots and snow pants for flip-flops and cargo shorts. You've got to let them go.
If it helps, I have a feeling this isn't the end for us, Winter. People change, you know? Sunny skies and warm weather might seem good now, but who knows if it will last. We might feel very different in a few months. We'll have tired of swimming and walking in the park and long for an opportunity to ski or snowshoe.
We've been through this before, Winter, and somehow we always end up back together. Pretty soon we'll realize life in Minnesota just isn't the same without you. Let's face it, you're as iconic in this state as lutefisk and underachieving football teams.
For now, though, you need to go. Take your things with you. Yes, the toothbrush, too.
It's been fun, Winter. But you've got to go.
Love, Nathan

----------------
Now playing: The Black Keys - I Got Mine
via FoxyTunes