I feel so feverish these days, like summer decided not to end for me but tipped it’s hat for everyone else. I was looking forward to the end of the swimsuits and summer shandy’s. I was hoping to find some peace when the days became colder and all the folk around me would start staying inside for any reason they could find. For myself though, I beckon winter towards me as if she is a long lost friend I wish to embrace. But as fall sets in, and the days become a little colder, and the leaves begin to color the gutters and sidewalks in a flurry of red and yellow…I feel no more at peace than I did when I was subjected to interrogation at the mental hospital. Yes…it is THAT bad. I couldn’t possibly go into every detail, I might bore you all to your deaths.
Although I had hoped that the end of summer would bring about some opportunity, I had to constantly remind myself that nothing ever goes according to plan. And so when my grandma was given a few weeks to live, my dad admitted to thinking of me as a nobody, and my only friends took off to college or finally landed that big job…you can imagine how I started to think that NOT getting my hopes up for positive change was for the best. I would have been crushed. I would have been humiliated with the results.
I guess it was a good thing I planned on it all going to shit, because that is EXACTLY what happened.