Dear Texas Sun,
My entire life, you've been there. You've been consistent, and dependable and I appreciate it. You've shown me the way in my darkest hour and even when you leave, I know you'll be back. We have a history, I get it. I know that things may have seemed at times to be one sided. Maybe you've felt like I was just using you to get my Chaco tan or to cook those eggs in a homemade oven in 7th grade science class, but I promise you that I have always been here to receive your warmth throughout my life.
Lately, though, things have been different. For the past few months, you've been extremely hot-tempered and at most hours of the day you just glare at me and my friends with such intensity. To be completely honest, I don't even want to see you sometimes. This may be hard for you to process, but the days when clouds block your glance, I've begun to rejoice. I'll even celebrate your absence by going to the river or going for a run, which I rarely do.
Things have been hard on you. I understand that the whole long distance thing may have run its course, and you might need to take a break from all of the searing and glaring. Heck, maybe you've found someone else to shine on for awhile. I'm okay with that because I know you'll always find a way to come back and ruin my day. You've ruined most of my nice shirts, my skin has a lobster hue, and the worst thing of all, you turned my car into a dry sauna, which would be okay if I lived in Alaska, but I don't live in Alaska. I live in Texas, also know around this time of year as "Satan's Armpit," because of the way you treat us.
Please don't take offense to any of this. You made my summer great. Because of you, I was able to go to the beach and the river and grill outside with some of my best friends. You made it fun to get into the pool and you made the nights much more appreciated. Good things came when you showed up last spring. I knew it would be a tough summer, but I think the good times have outweighed the bad. Time passes and now It's time for you to go. It's been real, you were great, you're still hot as hell and I love you for that. Take some time to calm down and maybe we can talk next year.
Yours Truly,
A Native Texan
P.S.- I'm not ashamed to say that you'll probably get an "I miss you" text, even after all of this in a few months. Feel free to visit sporadically because winter Is coming.
