It’s that one song.
In-between the synth and soft voice I relive my memories of you,
of side glances and shared blankets.
It’s more than goosebumps. It’s a complete submergence into my dreamland where it’s summer all year-round.
And everyday is an opportunity to get happily lost down dirt roads with you.
The drive back to your house, the comfort the giggling as I flipped through my music playing those throwbacks and singing them into the side of your face as you took us down the midnight road. But then you played that song and I’ve been hooked ever since.
It’s a song of many memories
It’s me laughing alone when I think about us play fighting on the floor. Bruises and scratches from playing too rough. We were like kids, an elementary crush. “I pick on you because I like you” kind of thing. And I’d take the playdate over a dinner date any day.
Another night, you tried to kiss me and whether it was the fear of cooties or the fear of attachment– I pulled away. You turned your attention to the cold and I started to make my way to my car. You followed.
The summer night brought chilly winds, but the sky was so clear.
“I really like looking at the stars..”
I didn’t know that boys that looked at stars existed outside of the movies until we were squeezed into the backseat of my car with our noses pressed to the window. And I could see what you could see. But even more, I could see the silhouette of your face and the genuineness of it still. I couldn’t comprehend how I could gravitate so easily to another human being. You had an unbelievable pull. I was happily the earth to your sun.
When August came to an end, so did the fun. I just wanted to steal one more glance. A moment with your grip on my knee. The pinning of wrists as we made lighthearted digs at each other between laughter. It wasn’t anything serious, and it’s almost embarrassing for me to reminisce. Because I know it was temporary. Yet I still find myself wanting to be squished between you and your couch, just the light of the tv illuminating your face. But like we concluded, you don’t belong to me. Nor I to you. And you won’t ever see this anyway.
but dear boy that looks at stars,
Even in December, these are the same stars
and I have the same car
I know that it was an experience solely for it’s season
But I can’t help but hope, that you’ll look past the cold, the passing time and the early sunsets.
And you’ll decide to live in the summer too.