Dear Summer

I don't drive. I was on the bus this morning and felt the memories of last summer flip through my mind. It's late January. The weather feel real warm to be winter- global warming. And it's wet outside, but still a nice day to enjoy. The bus engine rattled and it reminded me of the times I would sneak out of my grandmother's house to go see my then boyfriend (current ex). I remembered all about Those Days, every single detail, down to color of nail polish i wore each day.
Like a digital photo album, my mind reminisced on past events and I tried my best to push out those thoughts, but intellect betrayed my heart and there I was - a year later, recollecting old memories with a brutal freshness. Those Days remain so permanent in my being because that was a time when I was put on my feet- my beloved. Through my being with him, I guess a part of me learned to love myself. And those days are so permanent- its smell will forever be a scent I recognize, its taste will always surface above my lips, what I've seen will continue to pervade my sight and even when eyelids draw darkness, there will still stand the figure of Those Days. Love and accpetance will remain within my spirit- and since Those Days I've solely become scent, taste, and sight underneath a layer of faded love. I think we need some time away.
And as the bus wheels rolled, my insides raced. I panicked at the thought of harboring beautiful memories of an experience that began as a fairy tale and ended in lost of identity. Memories of being loved 2 being stripped of all emotions ever known to man. And as the bus wheels turned, I slowly fell back into the past.