meet me at dusk

There's a rush and sense of accomplishment to be gained from submerging oneself in freezing water. I notice my fragility, my smallness, and impermanence as waves crash into my cold body, almost knocking me over.

The warmth and the crispness of the October air makes it tolerable, enjoyable, exciting, and new. I check off a box like joy can be planned and measured instead of the spontaneous and fleeting emotion it is.

The way Nova Scotia is gorgeous in all the seasons, each one feeling more special than the last. Do these sunsets get old if you've seen them forever? I eat watermelon slices and spit out the seeds. I tan like it's still summer.

Summer was so very short and so very sweet. I really loved purple more than any other colour and looked for it in every dusk. I self soothed, I created goals and in some cases I met them. I read my first classic. At times, I became a hateful creature, and in others, a better friend, a lover, and a forgiving sister.

I grieved when summer ended, but now I'm ready to embrace Autumn. I have no choice in the matter anyway. I watched the full moon rise through my skylight and stayed sane and boring. I tell people about my strange and uncomfortable dreams and lay bare the most vulnerable aspects of psyche yet I hide and surpress my waking thoughts.

I absent-mindedly scratch myself. A stress rash used to be something I developed under extenuating circumstances and cleared over time. Now, it lives on my left knuckles and my right wrist, flaring, healing, and flaring again. As do my organs feel flared and my heart and womb in endless cycles. Am I not smart enough to feel beyond the short term? To know what can pass and how much things can change.