As I get ready to head back to University for one last year, I can’t help but feel the angsty teenage girl inside of me bursting to show off her curvaceous figure. In the shortest of phrases to describe my thoughts right now: Fuck. The summer is over.
I never get emotional about the summer. I tend to live in the now with slight tendencies to worry about the future and hardly ever do I dwell on the past. But at this moment, the dust that has barely settled from the summer is swirling around my head, filling my nostrills, agitating my eyes, and messing with my head. I’m at the sink trying to wash the dirt from my face, but I just can’t seem to get fully clean.
My summer has two parts. Part one, exploring the world, Europe to be exact. I’ve had two months to digest that experience, learn from it, and move past it. But the past two months working at camp are still fresh, the memories as crisp as the lake in the morning. What was so different about this summer from all the others? Why do I feel like I’ve lost something now that it’s over? I think the reality that I may never have a summer like it again is kicking in. That this past summer may have been my last summer as a youth.
As I look to my 6 course schedule and start worrying about my grades and my study habits that will affect my future, I begin to realize I miss stressing about things that don’t matter. For the past two months my biggest stresses while working at summer camp were:
- Do I have enough footage of kids smiling to make a video montage?
- Will the staff play happen?
- Does this girl want to kiss me?
- Do I want a freezie or a peach flavoured popsicle?
- Will this day off of alcohol consumption surrounded by good people be fun?(How did we stress about this?!)
In reflection I sit in astonishment…I can’t believe they pay me to do this.
I miss the adventure. Fourth year University doesn’t seem to be exhilarating to me. By now, school is pretty routine. The summer has an aura that keeps you wondering what stupidly fun thing tomorrow will bring. The care-free vibe that gives us the ability to walk around singing at the top of our lungs, not only not caring if people are listening to the terribleness of our voices in harmony, but hoping they are. Scheming, getting into trouble, causing a commotion…being “bad” without any “real” consequences.
I miss the hope of summer flings. The turmoil of the game, worrying if I said the right thing. Gathering the courage to put myself out there. The ecstasy of connecting with someone, even if it’s just for a moment.
I miss the chills. It’s crazy how people can just enter your life and become staples in your daily existence and then just like that, they’re gone. I could go weeks, months, years without speaking to them, people who I was comfortable enough to share the inner sanctity of my mind, regulate shower schedules with, even be close enough to be upset at. Some of these people I may never see again. I miss these people.
As I mope around my house, silently, feeling as if the world has ended, I wonder if there will ever be a summer like it. I worry that there won’t be. But I guess that’s how you know life is good, when you have something to be sad about. Because it means you had something to be happy about recently.