Seasons

It occurs to me that life revolves around seasons. Good ones and bad ones, funny ones and sad, tragic ones. Dr Who seasons and Psych seasons, sick seasons and color season. Maybe we shouldn't use the term "I'm just going through a phrase" because "It's just that season" would seem to be more appropriate,  won't it?

I have friendship seasons. Seasons where some people are my friends and some seasons where they're not. It's been happening since the start of time that it doesn't even feel right to fight it anymore. Friends will come and go but my books will last forever. Unless they don't - in which case, I'd just head over to the library for new ones. Because isn't that how seasons work? Out with the old and in with the new? I'm getting pretty tired of it though. There's an unstable undercurrent that come with the changing seasons. It feels like the ground is going to give under me and my heart is constantly in my throat. I try to distract myself through these changing seasons but it's hard when you don't know what to distract yourself with.