Artwork by Henrietta Harris

We were together last summer. That time of year has become more of a feeling for me than a season. Before, when I say it feels like summer, it means I feel happy. For the reason that you still loved me last summer, and that made me happy.

But this summer is different. I no longer have you. And everyday I suffer from the daily reminders of you everywhere around me giving me insane nostalgia.

Even if I wanted to change my habit of missing by meeting new guys this summer, I couldn’t. It was nice until one by one, each of them has started to become one of the reminders of him.

I met him online, but he was a friend of a friend. For days we would talk about the most random topics and he would understand me. He said the sweetest words and promises to quench my wanderlust.

My friends say he’s the perfect guy for me. And I remember how last year, when I told my friends stories about him, he was the perfect guy for me.

New words aren’t sweet enough to compare to his. His words healed me and assuaged my uncontrollable negative thoughts, replacing them with positive thoughts about life. I wasn’t ever a religious person, but his words had the ability to change that. He understood me more than anyone else. He was willing to love me no matter how broken I was.

New men reminded me so much of him I had to ditch them, because I can’t fall in love with someone else still in my heart. They know it’s him. They know because I talk about him like he’s some kind of precious jewel that I just threw in the ocean. They know because when they asked me about the people I loved, he’s the only one I mentioned.

But last summer, all he did was to try and make me fall out of love with him. His messages were not as sweet as before, he stopped complementing me, and for two straight months he wouldn’t put in any effort to see me. He just fell out of love with me, and I don’t know how it happened.

But I still was able to love him with all of my being. It was summer and yes, boats are supposed to drift away from the shore to go to somewhere with a better view. But he is not a boat and I’m not a shore.

Still it has been a year since you left. I guess I’ll have to take back what I said earlier. Summer is still a feeling for me and not a season. Now, when I say it feels like summer, it means I feel sad – sad because every damn guy I get to know reminds me of how beautiful you are and how they could never compare to you. Just like the summer season, they’re temporary in my heart. And darling, I guess I am your summer season.

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