Our Last Summer

Last summer, I wrote a poem, and it talked about an ending in potentia. An ending where someone died. But that person wasn't me, and he wasn't you, and I was tired of saving people and giving up my heart just to be told to fuck off; and then you offered me something pretty because you were tired of making ugly things you didn't have a choice in anymore and my darling,
did we even really know we were meant to last?
Last summer, two boys-not-yet-men-not-ever-girls sit half a continent apart, one on the sidelines of a dance in a shiny dress and one on a boat in an ill-fitting tux and neither, neither of us wanna be here if you're not here too. Doesn't matter how many I-miss-yous get said, you'll still be there and I'll still be here, too far away from you,
Last summer you tried to die and I never had the balls, neither of us thought we'd see the dawn of another spring but the birds are singing and the flowers are blooming and my shining star, here we are.
A year has gone by and I don't know how much has changed, but we've started to walk away from them; and you still want to die but there's a sepia in your eyes like a goddamn polaroid and the melody on your lips starts screaming to me, "I don't want this to be my last fucking summer."
So where the hell are we now?

Last summer invisible hands tugged at your face and some old nightmare pulled at my wrists and all we could ever do was spill out our guts togethers in a corner of a Discord server asking ourselves questions the other could never answer true but was that supposed to fucking matter, because the past fades like summer-morning mist as tears like dew hit the ground and they sizzle out in the heat and suddenly, just like that, finally we start to breathe.

I sit on the edge of the proverbial cliff just as the storm begins to break, and dawn shatters liquid gold over the horizon and I pull my tie off like the noose I wrapped around my neck -
Last summer -
The sun shone bright but we were still drowning and yet, my darling, here we are at another solstice here we are at another summer and the ever-present question on our exhausted eyelids is this gonna be our last summer?
It is, and it's not, and you know that just like I do. This is our last summer to fight and our last summer to survive and they might say the night's darkest just before the dawn but my love, when the night outgrows the day all our secrets won't have to be hidden any more and the country won't choke you because when this last summer dies we'll be free under the neon lights of the metropolis night. This isn't our last summer because our existences might be eighteen years old but my darling dearest we are just beginning to live. This isn't the last summer of our love or our lives because this is just the start and I look at you and the affection I'm gonna surprise you with and the melody on our lips is screaming out across a burning continent:
"I won't let this be our last summer."