The sun was bright, hot, and constant in those August days. Yet, the brightness was needed, it blinded your conscience in a way you might only expect. It was the august heat that made the sweat roll down your back, your clothes sticking to your skin, much like the saltwater of the ocean. It was August and August was your time.
There was you and there was him in the old rusted truck of his, blankets and pillows on the warm sandy beach, and later in the rented cabin that you managed to get for the weekend.
He was your everything, he was your one. His kisses were intoxicating and you were barely an adult for more than a few weeks at this point. But you feel it in your bones, your soul as you catch his hand in yours. Fingers entwining like black magic because it never felt this way before for you.
Still, he whispers those sweet words, the apprehension that came with that one night.
You were sure and never been more about something in your life.
He was yours, and you were his in some awkward movements that made you feel things that you never felt.
Your family doesn’t quite get it, but they can’t say much these days as you race out the door in bathing suit tops and tied sarongs. Large rimmed sunglasses that you found in your mother's closet from her childhood in the ’70s. Your polaroid camera is stashed away in your bag, while your sandals are in your hand.
Your overnight bag tells them that would be back on in a few days.
No one tries to stop you, but the looks are disapproving.
Time passes too quickly for your liking and it's the little things that bring you back to the present. Pieces of mail from college admissions, that week of orientation you are supposed to go to.
Instead, you’re twisted in bedsheets, learning his body again for what feels like the tenth time or was the twelfth? Twentieth time? The bottle of wine empties once more, only reminding you that things weren’t permanent when he left again.
You talk about dreams and what you wanted in life. Memorizing his grin when he looked down at you. He’s been there and done all that, all those freshman activities that will encapsulate your life in a few short weeks. He’s finished with all that know, done with his bachelors and in the world of internships and mentorships.
You don’t know if it was you, or him. Maybe it was the magic of summer that dwindles as the sun sets earlier and earlier and earlier each evening. Then one day you’re forced to say your final goodbye, which is laced with bound to be broken promises and false hope. You’re so enthralled that you don’t see the shadows lurked in the corners that make or break this new world of yours.
You find yourself waiting, and skipping out of parties, watching the telephone. Checking the answering machine for any sort of message.
Slowly you wake up, slowly you rise and begin to find yourself. A different self, as change is always for the better these days. Soon you’re blushing in the hallways, looking at boys holding beer cans and deciding just want you want for yourself.
One day you’ll wake up and think about that August and realize he was never yours, not in the way you wanted him to be. Feelings washed away like a ship lost at sea, memories and mementos are packed away because they no longer matter.
You see each other by random luck years later. Everything comes flying back to you, but you only nod your head in passing as you pass each other by. Wondering for a brief moment if he remembers? Remember those days by the ocean, nights under the stars in the back of his old rusted truck. How those moments defined those last days of carefree youth, allowing you to bloom into something much greater.
In the briefest moments, you can still smell the salt in the air when you close your eyes. Though this wasn’t August anymore.
August had long past and you smile back on it like a fond memory.
pixelskylines
areudirty
jimmyeatworldofficial
kianamaiart
origamiaround
