the concept of a letter arriving via paper aeroplane is so cool.
i wish it were summer again. i'm missing those balmy, nothing type days when the minutes slide by in no particular order, and time falls out of its regular pattern. those lazy, smoky Sunday afternoon kisses that feel like they were personally invented by us. even here, as we slide towards december and summer days creep closer, there is no change. i am as cold now as i have been all year.
the sunshine here is a weak imitation of what i know, and i myself become a weaker imitation of who i am when i am underneath it. i feel as though i can reassemble myself under the heat and confronting power of the Riverina sunshine.
i miss my river. i miss going floating on the river the morning after the night before. i miss taking four hours to float two kms. i miss getting scaldingly burnt, and turning black overnight. i miss the burrs in my feet, gained from trips around town in bare feet. i miss them because they seemed constant for so long, but now they are nowhere to be seen. i miss the river rats, those comrades who make everything lighter. i miss being able to reminisce about those days. i miss who i was, and who they were.
but most of all, more than anything else, i miss knowing that they love me. i hate to i think i've lost that love, that care, through a lack of attention on both parties' behalf.
i wish i could go back. and then, i don't. i want more than anything for things to be as they were, with the summer seeming to stretch out in front of us without end. and yet, i wouldn't go back to it, because i know that things can't stay that way forever, and if i had to live it all again, the pain of knowing it would end would be too much for me to bear.
Suffice to say, i'm sorry. and i hope you are too.
Listening to: "Mango Tree" - Angus & Julia Stone
the concept of a letter arriving via paper aeroplane is so cool.
i wish it were summer again. i'm missing those balmy, nothing type days when the minutes slide by in no particular order, and time falls out of its regular pattern. those lazy, smoky Sunday afternoon kisses that feel like they were personally invented by us. even here, as we slide towards december and summer days creep closer, there is no change. i am as cold now as i have been all year.
the sunshine here is a weak imitation of what i know, and i myself become a weaker imitation of who i am when i am underneath it. i feel as though i can reassemble myself under the heat and confronting power of the Riverina sunshine.
i miss my river.
i miss going floating on the river the morning after the night before.
i miss taking four hours to float two kms.
i miss getting scaldingly burnt, and turning black overnight.
i miss the burrs in my feet, gained from trips around town in bare feet.
i miss them because they seemed constant for so long, but now they are nowhere to be seen.
i miss the river rats, those comrades who make everything lighter.
i miss being able to reminisce about those days.
i miss who i was, and who they were.
but most of all, more than anything else, i miss knowing that they love me. i hate to i think i've lost that love, that care, through a lack of attention on both parties' behalf.
i wish i could go back. and then, i don't. i want more than anything for things to be as they were, with the summer seeming to stretch out in front of us without end. and yet, i wouldn't go back to it, because i know that things can't stay that way forever, and if i had to live it all again, the pain of knowing it would end would be too much for me to bear.
Suffice to say, i'm sorry. and i hope you are too.