What's mine this August

The stillness of August has left me frozen. It sometimes feel as if the wretched sun cooking the concrete streets and blasting us with the stifling heat also has this magical power to stop time altogether. Stepping outside feels like existing in a world where time has slowed down, and you feel it. You feel like every second feels like a minute, and every minute feels like an hour.

This is it. This is the last of the summer where what’s mine is mine. And I treasure so much of it. I cherish the moments sitting in the park for hours with a book, reading while idly stroking Beezus’s kissing spot, the little brown diamond right above the center of her eyebrows. The excitement of spontaneous food excursions or seeking refuge from the heat by escaping to museums. Lazy days with friends at home, feet propped up on coffee tables, armed with snacks, chatting for hours while the film we were meant to watch continues on without us. Hikes, or walks through the city that feel like hikes, stretching on forever, our legs and voices aching afterwards. Bouquets of flowers from the farmer’s market that need a vase. Fresh fruit that needs to be broken into with that first bite. A cat that needs the warmth of my body to nap next to. These moments of mine will soon feel stolen. By him. By myself.

The last bits of this month promise so much change, and I’m not quite sure if my most will be enough to keep up with it all. Perhaps this will move me in ways I never knew was possible; lighting a North Star I never knew was there.

But first, I know that there are goodbyes to be had. Versions of me I worked so hard to build and have clung on to, ready to let go of me before I’m really ready. Moments slipping too quickly between my fingers, but slow to forget. Perhaps I’ll spend the rest of my life wishing for them back. But for now, I will try my hardest to open my eyes wider, take it in even more, bask in these glorious rays. Before the changing of the season changes everything.