I’ve never liked the summer heat.
It’s the sun’s warm – too warm – hand curling around my shoulder, burning away my will to dream. It’s the way the shade’s cool hug refuses to put out the fire igniting inside my skin. The way water droplets drip like precious pearls wasted onto the heated concrete floor.
Summer is my least favorite season.
Lying on a blanket thrown haphazardly on the grass, breathing in the scent of life, the city, the faint perfume from your skin, while sweat drips down my forehead, landing on your soft fingertips, I feel like I’m in a version of nirvana. You chase away the summer heat, leaving only the best parts behind. My heated skin – heated from the dreams that chase me after sleep – feels bearable with you.
(my dreams have always been the coolness of the water, sweeping into my head, knocking me off my feet, before leaving me drenched, clinging to my pores. they linger in my heart, chewing on the insoles of my feet as i run towards nothing and everything. the sun sets and the sun rises, and sometimes i think i see what i’m running towards, but it’s a hallucination and everything fades.)
With you, my dreams are quiet. My heart aches with want, but not as much as before. And, sometimes, on my journey, I slow to a walk by your side, smiling at the flowers I had previously passed by and the butterflies flitting around our heads.
With you, the summer is a time of relaxation and happiness, no longer the burning hands of pain and the fear of the future that once overwhelmed me. With you, the fear is bearable.
With you, I think I could like summer.
author’s note: this is just something soft i wanted to write. warm and fluffy. i genuinely dislike summer, so i wanted to write about someone who began to enjoy summer after meeting another because that’s the type of mood i’m in right now. feel free to interpret who the other person is how you like. 🙂