“I’m not good with goodbyes,” says July, packing away her swimsuits and sunblock. “Let’s not make a big deal out of it.” And just like that, July is gone.
I’m left dumbfounded between the 31st and 1st, unsure of where all the months have gone, like a drunk who’s puzzling over the empty glass in my hand. I could’ve sworn this thing was full a second ago. Hiccup. I’ll sip down the last few dregs and make the most of them, but then it’ll be back to the bartender for me.
“Father Time,” I’ll say, “I’d like another round of weeks, if you please.”
When August comes, we’ll dance and sing and sleep very little. The weather will change with the music and the leaves. Probably, we’ll sweat a lot. Toward the mid-point, I’ll take August with me on a flight across the ocean, and August will be there when I start a fresh chapter in a familiar city. The good thing about time is it never leaves your side, even if it’s always moving.
It wasn’t long ago that June brought me to Jenny, to South Korea. It wasn’t long ago that I was lounging with May on the south campus lawn of a university with my friends in Istanbul. Every month brings with it some change to your life, and while you’re busy living in the moment, getting drunk off new experiences, the weeks will slide by. Try to pay attention, but don’t worry too much about catching all the details. In the end, it’s the feeling of the memory that matters the most.
Were you happy? Were you excited?
I can’t predict what August will bring. For now, I look back fondly on the events of July, the trip to Po Hang for the fireworks festival, the nights downtown, the walks through Daegu, the barbecue dinner, the lazy weekends, the experience I needed for my major, the buzz of the cicadas, the arrival of consistently blue skies, the ever-changing plans for the future and all the little things in between. Hard to picture the summer wrapping up so quickly, but time waits for no man and a whole new chapter awaits in the States.
Summer, Act III, is upon us.
