Summer mumble

For months I have waited. Through the falling leaves, the frosty 6:00am awakenings and the first signs of spring, I have patiently gone on with my life, anticipating this feeling's return. It's a glorious and overwhelming feeling, looking on powerlessly as the fourth season lets its final adjustments creep into the city - summer has arrived.

No more water will leak into my shoes as I brush the icy morning off of the grass. No more torn stockings to pull up over palid legs. No more hot chips, indoor dinners, mosquito free nights. Sleep no longer an everyday thing in the struggle against the heatwaves that creep into my room, promoted by my tin roof and lack of insulation.

Slowly but surely, Christmas decorations fill department stores, the smell of tinsel and artificial pine trees lifts me up in euphoric delight. I think of cherry cakes, golden gifts and family arguments. I think of riding my bike to see the Christmas houses late at night and eating too many icy poles. The scent of "fake cold" - air conditioners droning under the summer sun and into the summer nights.

One year I remember laying in bed on top of the blankets at 5 am wanting to hold his hand.
The next year I remember laying in bed on top of the blankets at 5 am thinking how amazing it was that he was holding my hand.
This year I anticipate an empty bed. Holding my pillow, sobbing into the darkness. Big, scary, empty darkness. Nothing to run from; no-one to run to.

Kris Kringle, candy canes, receiving the same Kmart cards from everybody in class, buying your best friends matching presents from the $2 shop, window shopping to the sound of Greensleeves in the city at night, sleeping in next to nothing if you're lucky.
These things to me are all synonymous with summer and the drowsy, satisfying feeling that comes with it.

I make a pact that summer '08 will be my best yet - if that's possible.