As the summer of 2014 comes to a close and I begin to undertake the horror that is packing, I’m getting a little wistful. While certainly this summer was not the summer I had planned for, this one has brought me so much that I feel that I owe it a little bit of thanks in return.

So, from the bottom of a pile of clothing that is slowly taking my entire body hostage, I’m sending a quick thank you letter to the summer. My mother would say it’s the polite thing to do. Plus, if I do actually drown in this sea of my own belongings, it will be nice to know a short recap of my past few months is left behind. Please give my closet to my best pal and whatever else is left to my brother to deal with (sorry, buddy). Without further ado:

To days spanning from May 14th to August 20th, 2014,

Thanks for my very first trip alone, for too much hummus, for a night in the Negev, for fresh figs, for new sights, for the beach, for some serious sunburns, and for new friends amidst old culture.  

Thanks for New York, for nights that turn into days before I arrive back home, for waking up on my roof, for tired legs from too much dancing (read: jumping and flailing), for unexpected plot twists, and for moments I can’t quite recall.

Thanks for weekend nights on the couch, for a sizable amount of time in bed, and for much-needed relaxation. 

Thanks for old friends, for old memories, for soft lips and strong arms, for feeling robust and whole while still totally lost, and for nearly too much time with family. 

Thanks also for solitude.  

Thanks for Saturday yoga with my mom.  

Thanks for great food and great drinks and the right people to share them both with. 

Thanks for nights and days that blend so fluidly together that any distinction seems pointless.

Thanks for the beautiful sunsets that blend just as well. 

Thanks for my snazzy new joggers that keep me effortlessly stylish and relevant. 

Thanks for air-conditioning, too many over-played excuses to “treat myself", and sun-highlighted hair. 

Thanks for recovery, ten days of ice cream, and slowly deflating cheeks. 

Thanks for testing my patience.  

Thank you for the relief of crawling into bed and both for the feeling of coming home and the feeling of leaving it, and for reminding me that it's okay for neither one to feel totally right. 

Thanks for the feeling of longing, for motivation, and for always providing something to look forward to.  

Thanks for three steps forward, two steps back, and about a million steps to either side (the lesser-known Sara Schuster tango).  

Thanks for making me laugh.  

Thanks for clearing basically nothing up, but for making confusion feel slightly more okay. 

Thanks for great music. 

Thank you for coming when I needed you most in May and leaving exactly when I need you to go.

Last but not least, thank you for asking for absolutely nothing in return.

All yours, 

Sara