Of Being Left Behind

It's July 20th today.

It's hard not to think of this summer as what it used to be- finite, cut down to two months. It has been this way for pretty much the entirety of my life. And now it spans ageless into the future, though I know it's really only a year. Hopefully.

But I find myself panicking. And it's a weird feeling, seeing the end of something that's supposedly not there.

There is an end, though. Right where the end of summer is. Was. That's the end of my confidence if I don't find another source soon. It's the end of security, because at the line-where-Summer-should-end waits the beginning of the farewell of the few friends I've retained thus far.

It hurts. And I know that even if I make friends at the barn with those who I've got the most hope, they'll be gone too. Because everyone is leaving, everyone has the end of Summer where it should be. Everyone but me.

Everyone. But. Me.

I'm standing still as I wave off those who have a normal Summer, whilst I keep on being my anomaly self. Everything normal seems to bend around me. And if this is what "special" feels like, I don't want to take part. Not now. Maybe later.

Special feels like standing still. Special feels like watching everyone you love turn down a different path than you. Special feels like being alone. Special feels like struggling to put on a smile and a laugh and only being able to cry in the shower where no one can hear you. And even then, you can't always cry because it seems the shower does it for you except there's no relief from the tears.

Melancholy. That's what I feel right now.


Post a Comment