After August, everything feels sad. Like everything is about to die. Because it is. And then—I suddenly feel like the loneliest person in the world. Like every tree that changes color will crush me with loneliness.
I try to push it away. But it seeps into my bones in the morning when the sun begins slanting through my window differently. And then walking to the library, suddenly, the wind will smell like smoke and rain at the same time. Shoot. I have no defense for that kind of sadness.
Today I went out to the Great Salt Lake to pretend it was July 1st and take a few more Polaroids.
The I miss everything about you graffiti had been erased.
(But don't worry, I had a plan B.)
(and I'll be working on a plan B for fall)