We need to talk...

I’m breaking up with you. I know we didn’t have a very long affair, but you constantly make me feel like I need to change something about myself. Whether its my appearance or the way I handle myself. You beg me to change. Here’s the deal, love. Its like smoking, if I really wanted to quit, I never would’ve started. You could try to turn that around on me, but the difference is you were going to go away anyway. You are only meant to last a little while. You were supposed to warm me up and inspire me, and then go away. Hide on the other side of the sun until I need to thaw out again. What I’m trying to say, darling. The words I’m so desperately searching for… Fuck off summer; I’m tired of sweating and feeling fat.

The summer is good for making plans and for fucking. Only skinny people can “make love” in the summer time, everyone else just sweats way too much for that. I’m ready for the cool, crisp nights that take my breath away and make me want to fall in love. The summer is good for brief affairs that make me feel silly and wanted. Fall, winter, this is where I thrive. I can wear cardigans and socks and jeans and not want to drop the extra 40 pounds I have stored in my ass. I’m not built for hot. I’m built for cuddles, and cider, and soup. I feel clean in the fall, I want to smell like the sexy, masculine smoke of a bon fire. I want to make someone else hold my beer when my hands get too cold. I want to borrow your jackets. I want to stay in because the weather is too bad to go to the bar. I want to cook for you and all of your friends. I want to dream about waking up in a cold room and staying under the covers with you because its too cold to get up and face the day.

I look better in the fall; I like a good chill in my cheeks to make them pink. Not a sweaty glow. I smell better in the fall, I feel better in the fall. I take better care of myself in the fall. I tend to my heart, and my friends and my feelings. Show of hands, how many of you have seen me this summer? Ok, put your hands down. If your hand was up, you are one of the following: My roommate, my parents, someone I had a brief affair with, someone I’m currently in like with, a friend of Cameron’s, or I work with you. Everyone else, it was too hot. I didn’t want you to see me like this.

I want to go to a football game. I want to cook chili. I want to stay the night with my little sisters and cuddle up in blankets on the trampoline late at night and talk about what we want to be when we grow up. I want to watch scary movies. I want to feel comfortable. I want to be affectionate. I want to start something new. I want to knit. I want to go thrifting so I can wrap myself in oversized men’s sweaters and skinny jeans. I want to go to shitty local shows and drink dark beer. I want to wear orange and red and yellow and laugh at everyone who is fading out of their fake summer glow.

 Now for the things I need. I NEED TO QUIT WORRYING ABOUT THINGS I CAN’T CHANGE. I need to worry less about the things I can’t control and play the cards that have been dealt to me. I need to live in today and not last week, not tomorrow, not next year. To-fucking-day. That’s where I am, that’s what I have to deal with, that’s what I need to worry about. I need to take it one day at a time.

God damn it, I love when the weather starts to get cold.