The wind chimes tinkled in unison as the breeze swept across the porches. The evening air felt much like the tail end of a lazy summer. In reality, May peeked around the corner. Tree branches, showing the first signs of budding leaves, danced in the wind. Remnants of snow melted in a few dark corners.

She looked around at the blossoming dandelions and sprouting grass, and felt the tears trickle down to her mouth, tasting the warm saltiness of them.

"Seasons, I guess this is our closing act," Doug said softly as he split a blade of grass between his two forefingers. The tears streamed like water down a brook. She wiped them with her bare arm, dragging it along her face in the same fashion she did in kindergarten when the kids teased her about the meager lunches she brought to school.

"It-It seems so simple for you to say goodbye. I guess I hold on because it was my first time falling in…well, you know what I mean." Her voice trembled, and she inhaled deeply to complete her thoughts. Looking toward the street, she noticed an open-top jeep filled with carefree students. They brought back memories of the time they made love on the top of a hill in his friend's open-top jeep. The danger of being caught made their lovemaking all that more exciting. The breeze blew gently, much like the one blowing then. The incident marked the end of their summer together. He returned to Long Island the following day.

The breeze and warm night air stirred memories in him, too. Memories of her fascination with the outdoors, and the derivation of his nickname for her, "Seasons."

"It seems as if we always did weird things when we were together. Remember the time you made me walk home in the snow? My friends thought I was crazy." He laughed gently. He reached out to touch her shoulder, but shoved his hand into his pocket instead.

"Oh, so I suppose I thought up all of the crazy things on my own, huh?" Her tears dried and a slight smile teased the corners of her mouth.

"If only you had told me how you felt before. Seasons, ha! Hot one day, cold the next," he said as he placed the blade of grass between his lips. "You never let me know how you really felt."

"I guess you're not too good at reading signs," she told him.

"Nah! Pig latin was always my specialty. Oug-day ill-way ove-lay Easons-say orever-fay," Doug whispered slowly, the last word being barely audible. Finally she turned around and looked at him.

"It's funny. I've been trying all semester to let go. Going out with other guys, immersing myself in my work, the whole bit," she said. "But when I see you, the threads all come loose. And when I don't, I feel this terrible pang of missing you." The words felt strange coming from her mouth, releasing feelings that she held back for so long.

"And then I tell myself, "Ive-fay ore-may eeks-way, and I'm able to complete the day," she finished.

"I'm still going to marry you, you know," he said, touching her hair. "The situation is pretty screwed up right now, but one day," he said as he finally gave in and took her in his arms. He looked over her shoulder and saw the full moon beaming overhead.

"Uh-oh Seasons," Doug cried out as he outlined the rim of her ear. He directed her attention to the moon, and she buried her head into his chest, laughing uncontrollably.

"You know what happens to you when there's a full moon, don't you?" he giggled. She planted both of her blue suede shoes on his thick canvas sneakers and lifted herself up onto her toes and back down.

"I do calf exercises. Lots of them," she said. He cupped his hands around her face and kissed her nose.

"You are one helluva nut, Seasons."

"Maybe that's why you always chose Lana over me," she said, removing her feet from his. He pinched his lips together, and dug his fingers into her shoulders.

"You know what that relationship is, and what it isn't. It's nothing compared to what I had with you," he replied. "You also know why I stay with her."

"I've heard the rumors," she sighed. Because you're a poor kid from the projects who was never given the finer things of life. She represents all that you aren't, but yet all that you've ever wanted," she said, pulling away from his grip.

"One day Seasons, one day…," he murmured as he started down the walkway. She looked after him and noticed that the wind chimes had stopped chiming, and the tree branches sprang out from trees motionless.

"Yeah, one day the wind chimes will tinkle, and the moon will glow in its fullness, and my memories won't be of you," she said to herself as she turned and raced up the hill leading to her apartment.