It’s summer. What a time to be alive. Out my window all I can see is endless blue and all I can hear are the tinkling sounds of sunny days. The cars breezing by on their way away, the lazy wind chasing after them. Usually I would find some secluded place filled with sunbeams and soak it all in, but this summer is different. This is the summer before ___.
The summer before university, the summer before living on my own, the summer before adulthood, before change, before ends and beginnings. This is the summer with too much to lose and the things that can be gained are still too far away to be tangible.
So here I am, staring into the blue and trying to tie up loose ends. Maybe it would be easier to just cut the strings tying me to this place instead of helplessly trying to salvage them by tying weak knots that will only fray. Perhaps it’s a useless endeavour, trying to pull the past with you into the future. The strings of childhood are too weak to withstand time anyway and dragging them on will only make me more sorry to see them go when they inevitably break.
Summer used to be the haven between changes, the place where I could pause life for a bit, just a bit. But this summer is too rushed, too much like a whirlwind pushing me ever closer to…where exactly? To my next destination, to the stage of where I’m meant to be. Maybe summer finally got tired of being the Stop Between and decided not to be anymore.
Or, maybe I’m just growing up. And growing up means that you can’t always just stare into the blue and listen to the world pass by. Growing up means that you have to become the world and move along with it.