The Golden Summer
We are all in search of something, perhaps it’s everything, perhaps it’s only one thing; to fall in love, to conquer the world. I’d say I’m an everything sort of person. However, the one thing that shows up in my heart year after year and night after night is the golden summer. To feel warmth just from the memories of you, and me, and everybody. I realized though that it never comes in one full, every single second is melancholy and perfect, sort of summer, but rather in moments. There’s the walk to the cabin, along the lake shore. There’s laying on the back of my car watching the pine trees while all that surrounds us is music. Every Sunday morning, an hour of peace by the lake. Dancing in the rain, card games, naps in the sunshine, guitars played all day long, childlike smiles, two a.m. conversations. The way you stole my hand, your head on my shoulder. Kitchens at five a.m., bleary eyed and tired, and making the worst sorts of jokes. Crying for the feeling of it, crying because you don’t think they like you, crying because you don’t feel like enough, crying because you feel loved, crying because you’re laughing too hard. Stargazing on a roof, dancing in the dining hall, waffles for breakfast. Rowboats and riddles, costumes and carols, songs and shouting, bruises and blushing.