This is mostly just a reflection on summers past, particularly the one two years ago which changed the rest of my life---for the better, I believe.
-Fern
Last year, you told me, what they burned was the house.
This only makes me sad really because of how beautiful the wisteria was when it tumbled over the rooftop in a majestic purple froth. I hope that part of the house was spared, at least.
~~~
Sometimes, I think I would like to go back---maybe just to see if I remember how to get there. I wonder what I'd feel gazing up at the rusted roof, with its gaping holes where the metal has rusted through. I wonder if I would want to climb up the vines to the top and lie balanced on the slanted peak the way I used to---the way he used to---and gaze through the ethereal blooms and feel the sun on my face and dream about love.
But now that you've told me they burnt it down, I don't think I can stand to go back. Not if it means seeing the wisteria scorched and sad and lifeless.
~~~
Sometimes, I wonder what my life might have been like without that summer. I wonder, if he had not held me, had I not given myself to him even for as short a time as I did then, would I be as happy as I am now? Would I have known to reach for that feeling of bliss when my chance and the angel I now call my own came to me the following fall?
I think about it all, and I remember the sun and the shadowy pattern of wisteria on my skin, and don't believe anything that ever made me happy after that summer would have been quite so magical without those radiant, lusty, evil, beautiful, terrible days.
~~~
Sometime this summer, I think I will go back---just one last time---just to see if the wisteria is unhurt, and in bloom, and as beautiful as it was on those lazy days two years ago, when my best friend and I grew up.
Words by WildGoose
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Written on 2008-05-05 at 03:56
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-Fern
With Summer Fast Approaching...
...I start thinking about things that happened in summers past. Particularly when you bring up the days of freedom, and the house, and three hot guys who like to burn stuff.Last year, you told me, what they burned was the house.
This only makes me sad really because of how beautiful the wisteria was when it tumbled over the rooftop in a majestic purple froth. I hope that part of the house was spared, at least.
~~~
Sometimes, I think I would like to go back---maybe just to see if I remember how to get there. I wonder what I'd feel gazing up at the rusted roof, with its gaping holes where the metal has rusted through. I wonder if I would want to climb up the vines to the top and lie balanced on the slanted peak the way I used to---the way he used to---and gaze through the ethereal blooms and feel the sun on my face and dream about love.
But now that you've told me they burnt it down, I don't think I can stand to go back. Not if it means seeing the wisteria scorched and sad and lifeless.
~~~
Sometimes, I wonder what my life might have been like without that summer. I wonder, if he had not held me, had I not given myself to him even for as short a time as I did then, would I be as happy as I am now? Would I have known to reach for that feeling of bliss when my chance and the angel I now call my own came to me the following fall?
I think about it all, and I remember the sun and the shadowy pattern of wisteria on my skin, and don't believe anything that ever made me happy after that summer would have been quite so magical without those radiant, lusty, evil, beautiful, terrible days.
~~~
Sometime this summer, I think I will go back---just one last time---just to see if the wisteria is unhurt, and in bloom, and as beautiful as it was on those lazy days two years ago, when my best friend and I grew up.
Words by WildGoose
Read 723 times
Written on 2008-05-05 at 03:56
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