Winter, for many who live in New England, is a season for outdoor fun: skiing, skating, snowshoeing, snowball fights, snow angels. All those things that make the cold less so due to the offset found in winter’s enjoyment.

It is also a season of special chores: shoveling, sanding, salting, getting children in and out — and in and out, again — of their snow clothes. (I ranked those in order from easiest to hardest.)

For me, this winter needs to be about euthanasia. I’m not interested in violent and dramatic deaths — we see enough of those via the news. I’m interested in letting go and saying a peaceful goodbye to those living things which have been just limping along — for years.

I am thinking particularly about one friendship. A friendship which I have held onto for years on the thin — and foolish — hope that my overtures of continued caring and love would maybe be welcomed. In fact, in my image of the ideal reception, my open-hearted offers are even embraced.

But I have to admit to being real dumb about it.

A real idiot.

Why?

Because my wish for a reunion was so deep that I allowed myself to be disregarded, dismissed, and all but disposed.

And I don’t need that anymore.

So hand me the syringe.

There will be no more taking “extreme measures” to continue to support a friendship which is incurably one-sided and needs to be “put to sleep.”

While it was fulfilling and meaningful in a way I perhaps never quite expressed, it’s been time to say goodbye for some time.

And now — finally — I’m taking responsibility for honoring the person I know who can be a decent and loyal friend.

That person is me. And that person has only so many more days on this earth to offer love. It’s time to find new and willing recipients.