Dear summer,
I don’t want you to know this, but I miss you. I know I said a lot of hurtful things in August, saying that I hated you, and everything you are. I hated your heat. I hated the pain you caused me when you gave me sunburns. I even hated the boredom when I didn’t have anything to do. I couldn't wait until it was at least September when the heat wouldn't rise above 95 degrees every single day. I couldn't wait to say goodbye. I kissed autumn as soon as you walked around the corner, and I didn't look back.
But, summer, I didn’t really mean it. I wasn't thinking — Autumn was just so beautiful. I was only angry, and I didn’t know who you really are inside. You really are a season that brings the best out of people. You encourage others to go outside. You’re even the reason why a significant portion of the world doesn’t have school. Because of you, I don’t have to worry about bringing a jacket with me everywhere, or whether my hair will be ruined because of the wind/rain/snow/all of the above.
Without you, I’ve grown miserable. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to just hang outside late at night without considering the fact that it is beyond freezing outside. Without you, I’ve forgotten what it feels like to know that I don’t have schoolwork impending in the back of my mind every single week for nine months. And who am I kidding? How can I live without backyard barbeques?
Is it too much to ask that you come just a little bit earlier this year? I know it’s greedy, but I miss you. I’ll do anything. I’ll perform all the cliches. I’ll hold a boombox above my head playing ‘80s music outside your bedroom window like John Cusack. I’ll find you in the rain, apologizing for my actions. I’ll cover your room with rose petals, professing my love for you. Like I said, I’ll do anything — I’m writing a letter to an abstract season, aren’t I?
I promise that I won’t tell you that I hate you again this year. Maybe. But let’s not focus on that, baby. I want you. No. I need you. Although I may regret these words in a few months, but as of right now, I think you’re the best season. I know it may not seem like it, especially when October rolls around and I suddenly become obsessed with pumpkin flavored foods and the leaves falling from the trees. But like Whitney Houston and Dolly Parton, I have to admit, I’ll always love you.
Come back soon — I can’t wait any longer.
Sincerely yours,
A sad college student who’s tired of wearing jeans
