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Summers Growing Up
Just a journal entry from after I moved away from my hometown. Interesting to look back on this now that I’ll be moving back in the summer.
Hometown, summertime; when I have a bad day I think about the lonely nights I had in my hometown. Some of these nights were intense, excruciating. Others were just completely empty and numb. But they were always lonely.
So I’d grab a Capri Sun, head out the door, and skate around the block. The void of stars, the addicting vibration under my feet, the sounds of animals in the distance or garbage bins being rolled to the curb.. it just always made me feel better.
Some nights were really bad - too bad to skate. I would just walk to the park and sit on the top platform between all the slides. Whether I cried or just sat there numbing out, it just always made me feel better.
Other nights it would rain, and the loneliness would be all consuming. I’d change into old clothes I didn’t care about and head outside, usually with my mom telling me to not be too long or I’d get sick. I would run and jump through the puddles, oftentimes ugly-crying to myself; shouting anger (in my head) to the heavens. Any witnessing neighbors probably thought I was a loony, but I didn’t care because it just always made me feel better.
Some nights I was lucky, and friends would drop by. Friends that I didn’t know still existed. But they always came around. We’d sit on my curb and hold eachother, professing what we had on our minds. We’d drive around drowning in music - til we’d park in the mountains and just say nothing; our eyes glued to the valley lights. We’d run through the sprinklers together and laugh and then lay in the driveway, talking; acting wise and profound beneath our favorite constellations.. We’d hug. I would bury my head in their chest. The perfect heights; we fit so well, and we’d hug..it just always made me feel better.
Other nights I can not speak of, they were so bad. At some point, in the midst of Hell, they always got better.
This collection of bad summer nights were some of the most painful parts of growing up. All I wanted was for everything to end; to.. be in the safe arms of love that could take care of me, or to skip to a happy future where everything worked itself out - or often, to just disappear completely in every form of existence. I hated so much about my life in the summer. I was so lost and had no hope that hope could exist. I felt like I knew nothing and had nothing and was nothing. And I never thought I’d miss those shit nights, but I do.
Every night I grew up a little and woke up alive the next day. Every night something beautiful happened, even if it was dark. Of course it’s easy to say all this now that it’s over, but.. Every night I had that town. In the midst of wanting it all to end, I grew to enjoy the fresh air, the lonely abyss and the eery city-silence; and I took the little things that made me feel better for granted.
When I think of home that’s really what it boils down to.
Not the situation ending but the situation getting better. Growing to feel safe in my town.
I hope to go back home someday. Because none of this is better.
Hometown, summertime; when I have a bad day I think about the lonely nights I had in my hometown. Some of these nights were intense, excruciating. Others were just completely empty and numb. But they were always lonely.
So I’d grab a Capri Sun, head out the door, and skate around the block. The void of stars, the addicting vibration under my feet, the sounds of animals in the distance or garbage bins being rolled to the curb.. it just always made me feel better.
Some nights were really bad - too bad to skate. I would just walk to the park and sit on the top platform between all the slides. Whether I cried or just sat there numbing out, it just always made me feel better.
Other nights it would rain, and the loneliness would be all consuming. I’d change into old clothes I didn’t care about and head outside, usually with my mom telling me to not be too long or I’d get sick. I would run and jump through the puddles, oftentimes ugly-crying to myself; shouting anger (in my head) to the heavens. Any witnessing neighbors probably thought I was a loony, but I didn’t care because it just always made me feel better.
Some nights I was lucky, and friends would drop by. Friends that I didn’t know still existed. But they always came around. We’d sit on my curb and hold eachother, professing what we had on our minds. We’d drive around drowning in music - til we’d park in the mountains and just say nothing; our eyes glued to the valley lights. We’d run through the sprinklers together and laugh and then lay in the driveway, talking; acting wise and profound beneath our favorite constellations.. We’d hug. I would bury my head in their chest. The perfect heights; we fit so well, and we’d hug..it just always made me feel better.
Other nights I can not speak of, they were so bad. At some point, in the midst of Hell, they always got better.
This collection of bad summer nights were some of the most painful parts of growing up. All I wanted was for everything to end; to.. be in the safe arms of love that could take care of me, or to skip to a happy future where everything worked itself out - or often, to just disappear completely in every form of existence. I hated so much about my life in the summer. I was so lost and had no hope that hope could exist. I felt like I knew nothing and had nothing and was nothing. And I never thought I’d miss those shit nights, but I do.
Every night I grew up a little and woke up alive the next day. Every night something beautiful happened, even if it was dark. Of course it’s easy to say all this now that it’s over, but.. Every night I had that town. In the midst of wanting it all to end, I grew to enjoy the fresh air, the lonely abyss and the eery city-silence; and I took the little things that made me feel better for granted.
When I think of home that’s really what it boils down to.
Not the situation ending but the situation getting better. Growing to feel safe in my town.
I hope to go back home someday. Because none of this is better.
Published 8th Mar 2019
| Edited 13th Mar 2019
Author's Note
sry momma I said a swear
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