Fall is coming.

Where I live, in Florida, there's only one season all year long, summer.

Since I was born and raised in the sunshine state, one can imagine that seeing things change throughout the seasons fascinates me. Fall, especially.

The first time I progressively saw fall in fullaffect was my freshman year of college. Moving to New Hampshire was one of the first times I had really ever been north enough in the country to see things like snow and the leaves change throughout autumn. Overtime I would walk by the trees out side of my dorm and stop to look at the progress of the aging leaves. When I would walk under trees and be rained on by the debris of flora I would stop and dance in it.

I finally, for the first time in my life, began to understand the colors of fall.

Seeing the leaves on every tree morph from green to brown slowly, I can't help but compare their rich color morphing to the evolution of, the richest emotion, love.

The green before the leaves changed was the first stage of this process. This stage resembling the first step of a love that wouldn't last. Such a green, youthful, immature love; fresh in the mind and body passionately burning a whole through your sanity. Raw lust at it's finest. Verdurous and undecided love flourishing, then fading quickly under the autumn sun.

The yellow color stage being the calm before the chaos. The time all the signs tell you to end it but deceitful love says otherwise. Yellow, for everything telling you to “Slow down, you're going too fast.” Your gutless mind telling you these signs mean nothing and that everything will slow to a simmer. This stage does not last long because fall is quickly approaching.

Red for the final sign before end. A final stage, a fiery and passionate road leading to deaths door. Patience feels inflamed and irritated with the person you thought you we're in love with. This flaming crimson, a sign that death is here. Everything hurts, being with them feels like being scorched form the inside. If this was love, you ask yourself, why must it hurt so much?

Brown has come and there is no longer fear of letting go. it is time for the tree to let go of it's fruit and tis moment was long awaited. The leaf, now dried up and shriveled, just like the love it and the tree used to have. The leaf is left to live its final days, dead, on the floor. The tree, to live colorless and stagnant throughout the days and nights of winter but awaiting warmer days to allow for new life.