And the summer begins with the taste of your lipsWhile it’s getting hot inside youThink you’d burn through your dress if you kiss me againAnd it’s getting hot inside…
July… one of those months you don’t want to end, no matter how stifling and hot it might get. July is summer at its zenith. It’s vacations and pools and blurry asphalt, it’s bike rides and tomatoes and childhood nostalgia, it’s lilies and daisies and hydrangeas. It’s also a moment to stop and take a breather. It gets hot out there. Sit beside me in the shade and listen to this song.
Where are we in this summer? I’m probably not the best person to ask. We are very near the one-year anniversary of my Dad’s death, and my grieving has come back, if it ever really went away. It’s too soon to gauge whether summer has been irreparably wounded by the events of last year, but how could it ever be the same again? I wouldn’t want to erase all that has happened – if you take away all the sadness you take away all the love.
Is it all in my head? ‘Cause I keep getting scaredThat I’ll always be lost foreverBut I don’t give a shit if I’m too delicateWhen you hold me, it’s always better
Still, summer burns and summer heals. Grieving in the barren stark dimness of winter night have proven unbearable. This might be the best and most forgiving time to experience loss. The outside world, with its beauty and the floral balms in bloom, offers comfort, the way beauty always eases our time on earth. A song like this lends its own bit of help in assuaging melancholy. Happiness, ever elusive and always out of reach, is summer’s vicious promise every year.
Now your lips start to taste of pink lemonadeAs I jump off the roof into your poolLaugh and run from the heat ’cause it’s burning your feetAnd it’s getting hot inside
Is it all in my head? ‘Cause I keep getting scaredThat I’ll always be lost foreverBut I don’t give a shit if I’m too delicateWhen you hold me, it’s always better
