Dear Adam, (#2 in series)

30

She came into our town without warning, the reason of her sudden arrival remains unkown. She had only a father, who was loving, always happy, he was a good guy you could say. But Winter? Oh she was so much better.

Winter hated winter. She resents her name, tried changing it five times but her dad kept denying her. He says that her mother gave it to her and it was a way to remember her mother by. The topic of her mother made her go silent. It's something she hates to talk about. Her mom killed herself, she jumped in front of a train. Well actually, she sat on the train tracks for a long time, and at night she didn't move even when the headlights were in her face. She sat there awaiting death.

Winter was alive, at least most of the time. She was in love with the summer. I don't think she loved anything as much at that season.  She was fond of rain although she admits it makes her feel more depressed when the sky is grey and crying. Maybe it's so she knows she isn't crying alone, that the sky is mourning with her.

When I met Winter, she was running through the down pour trying to get to her car. And I seeing a lady in distress, gave her my umbrella. But that wasn't what caught me off guard, she rejected my offer and ran a little faster.

Even though her hood of her army jacket had been pulled over her hair and her head hid low, I saw a flash of icy eyes. Maybe that's what got me interested. I've never seen eyes as cold as Winter's.

At first, I honestly thought she was some weird girl, maybe even a bit rude. She sat alone at lunch and only ate an apple, but she didn't look anorexic. Her body wasn't perfect, not skinny but not fat. She was plain, not beautiful but not ugly.

But her eyes... her eyes were like glaciers on an ocean, a clear white blue. They were big too, like a deer caught in headlights. Yet just like other plain people, the rest of her was not that extraordinary and that's okay.

Winter always wore that army jacket, hood up, hair tucked away. I remember on Halloween was the day she actually didn't wear the jacket.

I haven't talked to her, never knew what to say. I wanted to make her laugh, not just mutter a simple hi in the halls. Winter hadn't ever laughed in school. She seemed off, at least she did after I got to know her.

You see, on Halloween our school has a masquerade. She dressed up in a short but modest black dress, a black and gold mask encasing her eyes that were almost glowing under it, heels that only added to her already tall height. And for once, her hair was flowing stick straight down her back. Her hair was almost white, like freshly fallen snow.

Many other guys had noticed her for once, usually they joined other girls who judged her for sitting all alone, or sometimes murmuring to herself. But in reality, she wasn't talking, she was singing poetry. I saw her writing in a notebook at lunch with her headphones plugged in. One day followed by others I had walked by her to the trash can on the far end of the cafeteria just so I could catch a glimpse of a verse of her poem she was working on that week. Then I would memorize it, and look at the second verse and so on until eventually I had poetry running in my head, my brain making unconsciously making up music to go with it. In the halls I would hum the poems to myself and fall in love with how sad and soulful they were.

Winter had turned down each and ever guy, even Tommy Novack, the guy who gets almost everyone, girls and guys  included. It was funny to see his jaw clench, and his head down in shame as he walked away from rejection.

After half way into the dance I decided to grow a pair of balls and ask her to dance.

I had tapped her on her shoulder and she had turned around with a locked jaw, the words no already falling out of her mouth. Except she stopped before she finished pronouncing oo. If my assumption is correct, she looked surprised, and gave me the smallest yet saddest smile in human history.

"Would you, uh, like to dance with me, or more so me stepping on your feet as we stumble around and look like idiots?" Shit, that was the absolute worst possible thing I could say. No girl likes a guy who can't dance.

"Yeah, I'd like that," I'm surprised that she actually talked. I mean I've wasted almost two months  figuring out how to talk to her, and properly introduce myself when I literally could have said anything.

But was surprised me most was the bittersweet laughter that followed her voice, it kind of just flowed in with her words. Her laugh was sad and empty but at the same time it was sweet and refreshing  like a cold glass of lemonade on a hot summer evening. I haven't heard a laugh quite like hers. It was soft like the melody to a lullaby yet it filled up my ears all the same. And her lips had twitched into the smallest smile, if you could even call it a smile, it was more so a quick lift of the corners of her mouth that moved up the smallest centimeter.

We had danced, people had looked but that was to be expected. After all no one really knee her, she was like an unkown species to the high school. So people were scared of what she was which only led them to judging her because somehow that made them feel better about themselves.

Humans are selfish. We may not admit but we all wanted to be better then someone. Whether it was the loner who sat in the back of the class, or the beautiful head volleyball player. We all felt better knowing that someone was below us. And to keep our social rank we had to make fun of the ones below us, it was some sick game. That's why we wear name brands, that's why we talk a certain way, that's why girls wear so much makeup and guys spend hours gelling their hair. That's why friends act different in front of other people and suddenly their not your friend anymore. Because us humans just want to be liked by the more popular group. I guess they never realized that they should have stayed with the one friend who loved to read even if that made her a nerd because she had learned how to love so much and never give up from stories of heroes and heroines. Or the boy who was obsessed with sad songs and who liked to right, because he knew what it was like to be beaten down with words and he made sure that no one would ever feel the same as he did because in those lyrics and depressing stories he found that a smile was best and pain was a horrible feeling to have. Maybe it was your friend you left because they were drawing across their skin with metal, because they usually give the best advice you could ever ask for since they had personal experience with different demons. It's all these people that were left behind  for a person who was more popular or didn't tell you their problems. Yet they're the best kind of people, because they are real, and I'm sorry you will never get to know what it's like to have friends like family because of your selfish choices.

Winter seemed to hear the whispers when they got too loud which cause her almost-smile  to drop and she looked down at her feet. Mumbled something about never being good enough and her arms fell from my neck as she slumped out of the dance room in defeat.

I wanted to tell her that she would always be good enough, that she was better then the words people spat at her which broke her down from the inside out as she slowly decomposed.

It's sad how the best people think their the worst. How the funniest are always the once who she'd the most tears. How happiest are the saddest.

I wanted to run after her and tell her how wrong their judgements were, but i didn't because I didn't see where she had ran too and another girl had somehow slipped into my embrace and we danced for a few songs. I think her name was Whinny.

And I guess that was the first regret I had. Was letting Winter go when I should have held on so tight.

I'm a coward. Maybe a small part of me still cared about what others would say. I didn't want to be the outcast, I didn't want to be Winter. But maybe all I needed was Winter and then the others hate would just fall away into nothingness.

You see, Winter was someone worth fighting for. At the time, I had not realized it but I now know. Winter is different, the good kind of different like listening to néw music that you never thought you'd like but now your in love with it.

No one could say I was a fan of Halloween or dances for that matter, but i think that Halloween dance was on the list of Best Memories. I don't think I've loved Halloween more then that night because talking to Winter was like getting exactly what you wanted for your birthday without telling anyone.

She was good and amazing and plain but beautiful all the same. I just wished she knew that herself. I wished she loved herself just half as much as I loved her. All of this past tense is making me go crazy.