I hold on.
I held on.
I let go.
Another summer comes to an end. And it’s so hard to let go. I never knew that I would, as an adult, have the same feelings about summer’s end as I did when I was a kid in school. Yes, I was always excited about what upcoming fall held, and I am now, too. I mean, I’m going to NYFW for the first time in my life, but letting go of summer, to stop holding her hand, to wave goodbye to her, is bittersweet. This summer was a blast. While last summer had the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, this summer was a unending blast. New friendships so deep, I don’t know how I got along without them before, long and winding late night conversations going down paths that not even breadcrumbs could lead you back from, explosions of laughter from deep pockets of happiness within, beach days with endless blue skies resting atop crashing waves, rose and the sun kissing my skin with her gentle warmth. Oh summer, I can’t quit you. But sadly, I know I have to. So now, as I set alarms to wake me from the slumber I manage to find, and rush off to tardy bells, appointments, meetings and classes, I take with me the golden hug the sun gave my skin, the memories I made and the possibilities of what’s to come for fall.
Just wake me when it’s summer again.