When the One You've Been Stalking Doesn't Love You Back

Spring and I are star-crossed lovers. I long for him all winter and watch for any small sign (the snow melting, a bird's call, the first crocus) that might signal his early arrival. I watch him through child's eyes: perfect Spring with his fresh green suits and manicured lawns, bringing flowers to all the ladies. I would like to appear nonchalant, unimpressed with his show of vibrant color and stormy moods, but I can't help myself. I run to him as eagerly as the children who follow his every move. I would like to say that Spring is equally impressed with me, but to Spring I am simply the awkward girl rubbing my eyes and sniffling at the windows. I've tried all the regular cures (antihistamines, nasal sprays, allergy drops) to no avail. Blame it on the stars, our parents, or our lot in life - Spring and I were not meant to be. I try my best to go on in his midst, but by the last week in May I always find myself sequestered to the house, watching him court others from the window.



What's a girl to do with antsy children and an unrequited love? Go visit other poor souls who didn't fair so well with their environment, either.

And, while there is so much to see at the Children's Museum (today, other than our ritual visit to the dinosaurs, we spent our time in sections of the museum we hadn't seen yet and managed to stay four hours), I tend to find myself staring at the walls studying the tile work - never once looking out the windows. Take that, Spring.