Wait for summertime

I woke up in June this year waiting for Florida and rain and time with my girlfriend, eager for long days and cicada-song. Before I knew it Florida came and went, leaving me dazed and confused in a July that never ended, dragging on and on in tedium and family drama. Then August disappeared in a flash and I woke up in September, wondering just what happened to Summer 2011. I like summer and look forward to it every year. The smells of grass and hot asphalt under my feet, the sounds of insects like rattlesnakes in the trees. It always excites me in some primal, child-like way, because summer means freedom from the school I no longer go to, the books I no longer drag around in backpacks. It's like another state of mind, with trips and hot nights and porch swings, another place in time.

This year, my summer was both eventful and slow, positive and disappointing. Good and very, very bad. I traveled a bit, went to a party or two, got caught in a lot of thunderstorms. I started a new job, one that I enjoy (which is a strange but welcomed change of pace) and affords me the chance to get my head above financial water and still have time to write. I started exercising more, eating better, trying to clean up my diet before my intestinal track crawled out and choked me to death. I lost more weight than I have in years, buying smaller and smaller clothes to fit this new and unfamiliar body of mine. I finished one book (thirty-seven drafts later) and started work on another, filling up notebooks with outlines and plot-points, character studies and doodles. I got some new stuff published. I messed up my ankle. I messed up my shoulder. I was in a lot of pain. I didn't get to move to Austin. I didn't get a lot of things I wanted, and had to make a lot of sacrifices to keep the things I did have. I lost a lot of those things anyway. I had a lot of panic attacks.

I mean, a lot of panic attacks.

I'm not sure what all happened, looking back at it now, sitting on the floor in front of my laptop as the sun starts to settle just a little earlier tonight. Now I just find myself waiting for the weather to change, for the skies to darken and the leaves to turn. I'm looking forward to my anniversary with my girlfriend. I'm looking forward to Halloween. I'm looking forward to releasing Flesh Trap, and working on its sequel. I'll miss the cicadas, but I think I'll make it for another year.