Summer sadness

Reads: 330  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Editorial and Opinion  |  House: Booksie Classic

At the end of each summer I hear my friends coming back to the same subject– summer is over. And for the past few years I have tried to tell them, just in case they do not know: “Yes, summer is indeed over. But in less than a year it will return.” Unfortunately, they never hear this last part of the sentence, because the word ‘but’ kills any interest when you want something ‘now’.

At the end of each summer I hear my friends coming back to the same subject– summer is over. And for the past few years I have tried to tell them, just in case they do not know: “Yes, summer is indeed over. But in less than a year it will return.” Unfortunately, they never hear this last part of the sentence, because the word ‘but’ kills any interest when you want something ‘now’.

 

Personally, I wanted to ask my friends something but I did not, so I ask you, please explain my why I sit in the café and look into the window, like I am waiting for someone, instead of enjoying an apple pie and coffee I was dreaming of all the morning.

 

I am amazed sometimes by how much we succeeded in waiting although often we do not know what we are waiting for, it is just part of our life to wait and long.

 

When I was a small kid I would walk really slow and fall down quite often but was very happy when I could walk without falling. I thought then that when I grow up my pleasure will increase because I will be able to walk better and further, I will be able to walk where I want, I will plan everything myself. In my head I multiplied present pleasure by potential capabilities and could not wait when I grow up and start feeling all of this. Who would have thought that when I grow up I will experience so much more and cover unimaginable for a kid distances. But somehow the more I received the less I could enjoy it. It started to feel like enjoyment has boundaries and it is uniformly spread over my life and the more I have the less acute it feels.

 

So I doubt that one year is too long. One year is a time, which will give you opportunity to think over what you are really waiting for every spring. One year is a small period, because when summer comes you still will not tell me how this summer is going to be different from the previous one, what will change, what you will do differently. Or it all will come down to just a new summer accompanied by a new clothes and new dreams.

 

All of this reminds me of a song I was listening to for the past two months, “Summer sadness”, that indeed may turn such summers into sadness when the first of September date appears in the corner of our laptops.

 

It could well be the reason why I prefer taking my vocation in spring and autumn and never in summer. Am I also running away from this feeling by creating a kind of bonus track to the summer in case I missed something?

 

 


Submitted: June 04, 2013

© Copyright 2022 zeusthegr8. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:


Facebook Comments

Other Content by zeusthegr8

Short Story / Historical Fiction

Script / Science Fiction

Article / Editorial and Opinion