just the smell of summer.
So.. This is probably my last week sleeping in this house--ever. Not only am I moving out for good, including my bedroom furniture and everything else I left in there when I went to school, but mom is moving as well. The house is on the market and it's time to go.
I'm not sad, but the whole day I've felt like I am looking back at something, and it is bittersweet to move on. This is the house that holds years and years of memories of being full of friends and laughter. The basement hosted innumerable parties and all-nighters, people loving and fighting, people screaming out songs and making absurd videotapes, pool and horse tournaments, airhockey slaughterings, concerts, songwriting sessions, staying up late and baring your soul sessions. Not to mention the addition and life with a brother, a sister, and a stepfather.
This summer hasn't felt like summer usually feels. I went outside earlier and heard the succaedas (I don't think I spelled that right) and felt the heat and suddenly remembered every summer before this one, all at once. This summer I haven't stayed out late every night or slept at other people's houses every night, haven't spent the day at the pool or the lake and come home exhausted and then gone out late to eat and have coffee and talk till the wee hours with the people who are still in this city that I love. Haven't had sleepovers every other night. I haven't been here. Now I am, briefly, but everybody's got a day job- except me, but I start in a week. And now, I don't live here. We are still close, but now it is different. Now we are grown.
It's beautiful to remember, and I am not sad that this summer has been different. Just aware. This summer has been more than I asked for in a lot of ways, and more than I could have dreamed of in most. It has been about solidifying the relationships that need it, about being there for people I love and who need me, about change, about growing up, about falling in love. And that's okay, and amazing beyond my words at some points. It's just a lot to look back on in one night.. a lifetime of summertimes and ten years of memories held by one house.
i've been afraid of changing 'cause i built my life around you. but time makes you bolder; children get older. i'm getting older, too.
I'm not sad, but the whole day I've felt like I am looking back at something, and it is bittersweet to move on. This is the house that holds years and years of memories of being full of friends and laughter. The basement hosted innumerable parties and all-nighters, people loving and fighting, people screaming out songs and making absurd videotapes, pool and horse tournaments, airhockey slaughterings, concerts, songwriting sessions, staying up late and baring your soul sessions. Not to mention the addition and life with a brother, a sister, and a stepfather.
This summer hasn't felt like summer usually feels. I went outside earlier and heard the succaedas (I don't think I spelled that right) and felt the heat and suddenly remembered every summer before this one, all at once. This summer I haven't stayed out late every night or slept at other people's houses every night, haven't spent the day at the pool or the lake and come home exhausted and then gone out late to eat and have coffee and talk till the wee hours with the people who are still in this city that I love. Haven't had sleepovers every other night. I haven't been here. Now I am, briefly, but everybody's got a day job- except me, but I start in a week. And now, I don't live here. We are still close, but now it is different. Now we are grown.
It's beautiful to remember, and I am not sad that this summer has been different. Just aware. This summer has been more than I asked for in a lot of ways, and more than I could have dreamed of in most. It has been about solidifying the relationships that need it, about being there for people I love and who need me, about change, about growing up, about falling in love. And that's okay, and amazing beyond my words at some points. It's just a lot to look back on in one night.. a lifetime of summertimes and ten years of memories held by one house.
i've been afraid of changing 'cause i built my life around you. but time makes you bolder; children get older. i'm getting older, too.