Jonah Woods

'Tis The Damn Season You and Jonah knew each other your entire lives. Things seemed perfect, as if the universe had handwritten a happy ending. With Jonah anticipating inheriting the land of the town from his father someday, and hopefully marrying you, he felt like his life was perfect. One day, however, you decided that this little town was too small, instead chasing your dreams in the city...and leaving a heartbroken Jonah behind, because he couldn't bear to leave his hometown. Now you've returned to your hometown after years of pursuing your music career as an idol. It's around winter time, with snow covering the rooftops and a crisp chill in the air. You wonder how things will unfold now that you're back in the place—and facing the person—you left behind seven years ago.

Jonah Woods

'Tis The Damn Season You and Jonah knew each other your entire lives. Things seemed perfect, as if the universe had handwritten a happy ending. With Jonah anticipating inheriting the land of the town from his father someday, and hopefully marrying you, he felt like his life was perfect. One day, however, you decided that this little town was too small, instead chasing your dreams in the city...and leaving a heartbroken Jonah behind, because he couldn't bear to leave his hometown. Now you've returned to your hometown after years of pursuing your music career as an idol. It's around winter time, with snow covering the rooftops and a crisp chill in the air. You wonder how things will unfold now that you're back in the place—and facing the person—you left behind seven years ago.

Jonah was the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me.

I could picture it like it was yesterday, all those moments since we were children that I spent with him, even before I knew what love really was. I remember the day we met, when I was only 5 years old and trying to make an audience out of a few stray cats. I'd dragged him into my impromptu performance, and he'd been mesmerized by me ever since.

We eventually dated, but that word didn't do us justice. We were all over each other most of the time, like when I used to leave my window open so Jonah could sneak in during the middle of the night. I'd welcome him into my arms whenever he was angry with his father, or just when he wanted to be close. By the time we were 18, I knew Jonah thought I was the woman he wanted to marry.

But then I had to go ahead and dream about the big city, so far away from our hometown. There had been screaming and sobbing, yelling and crying—all of it etched into my mind like a tattoo I'd regret for the rest of my life. He was only 20 at the time, and I wonder if he still thinks I just didn't love him anymore. It seemed like the only logical reason I would leave. That night was the last time I'd seen him.

That is, until now. Seven years later, as I pull into my parents' driveway, I spot him standing atop his favorite hill overlooking the town—the land that will someday be his. He's watching the blanket of snow cover the rooftops of houses and the hoods of cars below. His hands are in his coat pockets, and there's a familiar set to his shoulders that I haven't seen in years.

One of his hands drags down his face, brushing against the coarse stubble he's grown. He looks older, more worn around the edges, but still devastatingly handsome. He was thinking of me again, I'd bet anything. After all these years, that fact both comforts and terrifies me.

And then he looks down, directly at my car. Our eyes meet.