It's a cruel, cruel summer. Leaving me here on my own.

Dear Summer.

Listen. You’re really great and all. I mean, you’re awesome. I’m just... I’m just real busy right now. And I’m just not really looking for a commitment. But hey, you’re awesome.

Thanks for all the memories.

And the fish.

Jubers.

But in all honestly, while August seems to be slipping through my fingers like sand, I am really ready for summer to be over with.

'What?' you gasp. I know. I’m probably one of the few people who isn’t adoring this lovely weather, the long days, the freedom, the sun, the skimpy outfits, the lack of rain. I mean, I dedicated some special time in my heart (and this blog) for summer.

I guess it’s just the feeling of things winding down. I recently read a phrase in a book I was talking myself out of buying at Chapters the other day which said that while her and her boyfriend broke up months afterwards, this particularly moment is when they truly broke up. Everything else was just epilogue. To me, that’s what this feels like. Going through the motions and waiting for September (and all my television series premieres) to arrive.

The real break up happened probably just after my birthday. While I love all my friends dearly, this birthday was pretty unremarkably and a little lackluster. There was no ease and mostly I just remember a feeling of exhaustion and stress for a lot of it. Yes, of course there were great moments but it felt for the most part that it was a lot of planning for naught. I do hope dearly that those in attendance did not feel the same.

I guess it doesn’t help that the start of August brought a lot of things with it. Drama--that I’m not going to bore you with, work changes, a break up, a flu, a horrible allergic reaction, etc. It’s not summer’s fault. Those are life things.

What is summer’s fault though? This heat. I live in Vancouver for a reason. Besides the fact that I was born here, I like my weather temperate thanks. I love when it’s the type of weather you just need layers for. Hoodies make my life. Please, weather, please give me excuses to go buy more.

Like any break up, even ones where it’s for the best, I feel a residual guilt about the thing. I mean, I don’t want to rush summer out the door only to be whining in six months time when my fingers are numb from the cold. (Pray for a mild winter everyone). But this just feels like the dregs, the butt of summer. The type of thing you hold onto for too long, trying to recapture that magic and that chemistry that you once had. It's those new relationship ideals where anything was possible and that everything was sparkly and new. I guess this just comes from months of dreading going back to school? When I think about it that way, this is, hopefully one of my last summers for a little while where nothing changes really in September.

Well except I get to wear the cute boots I just bought.

But hey summer, no hard feelings right?

We can still be friends.