last day
Today is the last day of summer.
I'm going to miss it. I'm still in denial because I haven't done anything remotely close to packing, but I know the summer is ending. It's almost like my house can feel its loss. My room feels it. My hallway and stairs feel colder. My house understands, though, better than any of its inhabitants.
I'm in Maha's room, and it's messy, but the empty kind of messy--like someone sucked the life out of it. The wind is blowing through the vertical blinds, alright, but I feel like this room misses Maha. It's almost like all the blinds are wriggling in pain. Sure she was a spoiled kid and she didn't know how awesome her room was, but that's the cool thing about inanimate things, they don't really care.
I'm not going mad. I'm just very sad. I know I did nothing that amounted to something productive this summer, but it's painful to tear away and thrust myself into a schedule where people will depend on me. I guess it'll be fine when it's happening, but I'm going to miss days when updating my journal was my only priority. If nothing else was consistent this summer, I had my journal to fall back on. Detailing every one of those boring, routine days and turning them into something more than boring, more than important, something essential--well, that was nice.
Anyway, I guess after this, I will do laundry and start...packing.
I feel like I'm saying goodbye to more than the summer.
I'm going to miss it. I'm still in denial because I haven't done anything remotely close to packing, but I know the summer is ending. It's almost like my house can feel its loss. My room feels it. My hallway and stairs feel colder. My house understands, though, better than any of its inhabitants.
I'm in Maha's room, and it's messy, but the empty kind of messy--like someone sucked the life out of it. The wind is blowing through the vertical blinds, alright, but I feel like this room misses Maha. It's almost like all the blinds are wriggling in pain. Sure she was a spoiled kid and she didn't know how awesome her room was, but that's the cool thing about inanimate things, they don't really care.
I'm not going mad. I'm just very sad. I know I did nothing that amounted to something productive this summer, but it's painful to tear away and thrust myself into a schedule where people will depend on me. I guess it'll be fine when it's happening, but I'm going to miss days when updating my journal was my only priority. If nothing else was consistent this summer, I had my journal to fall back on. Detailing every one of those boring, routine days and turning them into something more than boring, more than important, something essential--well, that was nice.
Anyway, I guess after this, I will do laundry and start...packing.
I feel like I'm saying goodbye to more than the summer.