Summer’s end ( Archived) (28)

Remember them school days, during summer break, them joyous days when catching a tan while sat under sun down by the local corner shop with your mates, sipping your soda and laughing at a new joke one of them mates came up with, or the nights with only stars and moon observing when you’d all go ahead with the plan to steal as many apples from that grumpy old farts only tree a couple of streets down, simply because he was a grumpy old fart and the prank was comedy genius to you?

Remember when every day served a new adventure, where early teenage years was what summers was invented for?

Then, one day, a new visitor to the neighbourhood, a cousin to one of the girls from your class, one who lives only a few houses down your road. You’re 13, she is as well. And you instantly fall in love.
With each day you find more excuses to not be with your friends but instead hang down on your street and talk to your classmates visiting cousin over the hedge separating you from her, and then you grow bold, you invite her to an evening on your own, at the outdoor movie over by the football field.
You remain alone in the seats while the lights go out after the movie’s finished and everybody around you leaves for home, a stolen kiss, your heart beating fast and happy, almost wanting to jump out of your chest. She leans her head on your shoulder and you just sit there, amazed and totally satisfied.

Then, the day for her to leave is there, she must head back to the town where she lives, her summer visit is over. It’s a good feeling to have spent all the time with her, a not as good to see her go, and those hours, those right after she has left are…. bitter and sweet at the same time.

Have you ever experienced this?
The mix of utmost happiness just been had, and the sense of great loss, a feeling of bland nothingness, emptiness, because it’s back to a in comparison grey reality.

Sommer headed home three and a half hour ago, and that’s what it feels like.

It's not so much missing a limb, it's more of one out of five inhales for air becoming a slight struggle and necessary to be deep.

Aww...sorry Capt - "Parting is such sweet sorrow"

This is a lovely, little sentimental story tho and she's going to be so touched to read it.

It’s better to have loved and lost on the weekly Sunday bingo over at the retirement home, than to never have won a time machine on the crap table

Or sumfin like that

That was so long ago, I don't remember







Earl

Sommer left me a big printed photo, one of the beautiful she has in her profile. I’m going to “sacrifice” one of my pillows, attach the photo to it, and make out with it later on.

It's not pathetic, it's all (physical contact) I have now.