A love thwarted.

03 August 2011

Summer. Oh summer. You're a sneaky thing. Creeping up on me when my life is filled to the brim with exams (oral and written), papers, dance rehearsals and recitals, and less time than ever to complete it all. You whispered sweet promises in my ear of swimming, sketching, writing, reading, catching fireflies in a jar, drinking lemonade under the stars, and a million other delights that thrill my soul. Summer, you took advantage of me in my most vulnerable and overwhelmed moment. I fell prey to your vows. I gave myself over to your sugar-sweet words.

And summer, it was wonderful. I did catch fireflies; I did swim; I did read. But I didn't do nearly as much as I thought I would because I knew I had all the time in the world to complete my wonderful list. I traveled, I sipped sweet iced tea, I chatted and giggled with Bree. I drank in the nectar of the moment; the sunshine, the sticky smiles, the laughter. I revelled in every sunkissed minute of it. Summer, I was in love.

And then, when I no longer saw the word JUNE or even JULY at the top of my calendar, when the Fourth of July was nothing more than a distant memory, the truth was made known. And it pierced me worse than a two-edged sword. Summer, how could you? You told me that you loved me and that you would stay forever! But the two weeks between now and the first day of tutorial betrayed you. Summer, I gave you my all! Why would you lie to me like that? What did I ever do to deserve such treatment?

You left me with a small piece of yourself, nothing else. That piece is the heat--that humid Southern heat, the only thing I don't adore about you, the only think I would be glad to see go. This last gesture was liking heaping coals of fire on my head. It mocked me over and over and over again. Despite the fact that my tutorial starts soon, I still have the heat. And it won't leave until October at the earliest. No falling, brilliantly-colored leaves for me, no light jackets and sweaters. Just dry, dead grass and the oppressive humidity you left behind when you abandoned me.

Oh summer, how I loved thee! Why must you leave? 

8 epistles:

  1. Great writing, Elizabeth Rose! You have a gift with words. :)

  2. This is in reply to your comment on my blog:

    Hi Elizabeth Rose!

    I'm so glad that you like my photos!

    To answer your question, I use a Canon 20D. (It's not my camera, it's my mom's and I love it!)

    Have a beautiful day!

    Love in Christ,

  3. I really have to agree with Nela! :D Great post. And yeah, Northerners have no idea how sticky the South is in the summer...:P

  4. Yes, you do indeed have a lovely way with words...quite Anne-like I must say. :)

    I know! Can you believe summer is leaving so quickly??? *sigh*

    Well, I hope that you have a lovely evening, dear. And yes, we Northeners do not comprehend the humidity of the South...just the dry, beating sunshine. :)


  5. I so feel your pain. These words could be mine. Summer comes with such hope and leaves far too quickly. No matter how many moments we catch, and this year I missed far too many, they are never enough when the days grow shorter and the fireflies are gone until next year.


    Mrs. W

  6. So well put, Elizabeth Rose!! I loved every word you wrote! :)

    <3 Moriah

  7. I know, Lizzy. It's very tricky like...sneaking up and then disappearing just as quickly. But I am determined to enjoy every minute of it while it's here.

    Love ya, dear!

  8. Aw, summer has just gone away back of the north wind for a while to find itself again. It will come back. I'm sure it still loves you.

    Perhaps this will pick you up. Living on Literary Lane was one of the five specially-picked blogs to receive the Liebster Award on The Penslayer. You have a beautiful blog, and it deserves to be shouted-out.


"Gracious words are like a honeycomb; sweetness to the soul and health to the body." —Proverbs 16:24

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