Spring Is Here!!! (and I'm happy about it)

I used to love summer, it was when my lungs were their best. I soaked in the early morning warmth, the sun all day and the moon all night, everything always felt all right. The sprinkler sat perched below the trampoline, my bathing suit plastered onto me like a tattoo. I always remembered how euphoric life could be in the middle of July. When I ate popsicles for lunch and ice cream for dinner. When the entire day was entirely mine and mine completely. When I wore two-piece swimsuits and didn't care what folds and creases of my skin you could see. When I ate whatever I wanted and didn't begin each morning twitching on the cold bathroom scale. When I rode my bike and swung on the swingset and I could not picture a life in which I could be any richer.

Summer is the season of happiness. I stopped loving summer when I stopped loving the sun. I no longer tanned, I burned. I didn't swim, I sank. The sun beat against me. I wished for it to seep into my vessels and travel into my brain, only to restore a sliver of joy. But the sun blinded me and I always forgot sunscreen. I found it to be the middle of July and I hadn't eaten anything and life no longer felt euphoric. Mostly, because I wouldn't allow it to be.

When summer begins to defrost and I start to smell sand in the cuffs of my clothes, people often tell me their favorite was the one of 2019. They show me pictures - sand dunes, the back of jeeps, fishing, and kissing. I spent the summer of '19 telling myself "It's not getting bad again, It's not getting bad again." Though, it was. In the summer of '21, I said the same, "It's not getting bad again, I won't let it get bad again." Though it was worse. I had let it get bad again. I had let it get worse. My mother once reminded me that I control my own thoughts, though I didn't believe her. Because I let those thoughts entirely control me. I couldn't imagine that there could be a time when I would be in control. In the summer of '22, I remembered how to breathe. '23 and life no longer seemed chronically heavy.

It is spring of '24 and I remember why I used to love summer, the season of happiness. I can't wait for summer to make her return. For my freckles to reappear. I no longer fear the sun. In the middle of July, I'll put the sprinkler under the trampoline and I'll jump in my swimsuit. I'll try not to look at my reflection before I go outside. I'll be better.

The sun is shining and I’m enjoying it this time. It’s spring, the flowers begin to bloom,  the sun shines and the sky is blue. When the rays poke through my blinds in the early morning I’m glad they do. I find solitude in the sun, I invite Spring to join me, I set her a place at the table, with a mug of tea and a pastry. I do not cry when winter leaves me 

or pry his parts to absorb me. I am happy when it is not gloomy. I used to love the gray morning frost, the sun setting at 4 o’clock. But I like letting the light in, the warmth on the skin of my back, the sun setting again, the return of my freckles, the golden tan of my flesh, 

it’s for the best.

It's for the best.