And the summer begins with the taste of your lips
While it’s getting hot inside you Think you’d burn through your dress if you kiss me again And 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 scared
That I’ll always be lost forever But I don’t give a shit if I’m too delicate When you hold me, it’s always betterStill, 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.