Oh November.

It is the month that brings my favorite outfits up from the bottom of my drawers. It is the time of year were the leaves begin to change colors and when the temperatures finally decide to drop.

It is the month I can celebrate another year of life I have lived.

19 god damn years later I can firmly say, I am proud of who I have become.

It is the month that brings my family all together again around a table filled with food, smiles and laughs. My grandma brings the nicest silverware she owns and all the girls are in the kitchen cooking as the guys watch sports in the living room. We all share stories of our lives and catch up on any details we have missed so that way we are all on the same page again.

It is the month that allows me to spend great amounts of money while still getting the best deals. Black Friday is one of the best days of the year, staying up all night to fight off the moms in target and beating every girl inside Victoria Secret to find the perfect pair of underwear.

But it isn’t nor will it ever be the month that I get to call you mine.

Because while November always comes with almost all my favorite things about life, we just aren’t meant to be.

You are a hot summer days, skating around the city and I was a warm cup of hot chocolate sitting by a fire writing poetry.

I’ll admit I loved the way your body fit so perfectly with mine and the rush of adrenaline I felt inside my veins as you brushed my hair out of my face just to wrap your hand around my head and pull me in for one of those kisses I dreamed about every night.

Can’t you see I wanted this to work so fucking bad?

But no matter how much I hate that we are apart
I know that November could never bring us together.