Well… sort of. Not for me anyways, I’m a graduate now. And I don’t have a job yet either way, so September will come and go, and there will be no change for me, until I get a job, until it gets colder. This is the first time my life has been this way since I was four years old. For the last nineteen years, I have been trained to associate September with school. And now school’s not a part of my life. For now, anyways.
I can’t believe four months passed by with such vigour. Some moments that happened back in July seem like they were years and years ago; a few moments at the beginning of the summer felt like they happened only weeks ago. Time shifts in ways that are either fast or slow, but never, it seems, right on time. Where does it go? How do these moments run away from me, and I hardly even notice they’re gone until I look back on them?
Summers come and go, and summer weather disappears indefinitely and when it’s cold and it gets dark at 5 o’clock and the streetlights cast an ancient, mythic glow on the hard-packed white-cemented ground, it’s difficult to even remember or recall how it feels to walk in 30-degree sunshine-y weather. Because as humans, we adapt; it may take time and it may take pain and it may be difficult to leave certain things and people behind, but… we adapt. Eventually, we find the strength to carry on in new skins.
And so, it’s the end of summer; a few leaves are constellated on thickets of trees, sallowing, even in the hot, healthy glow of the sun; evenings are chilly and dark; the sun melts into the horizon just a little earlier; and I walk the streets of my neighborhood and remember what it felt like when all of the luxuries of summer were anticipitory, when they were at their peak of magic and reverence, when the world felt like a love song.