I just got use to August beginning but now it seems like it’s ending already. Perhaps it’s the weather; things have definitely gotten cooler.
I can’t help but think of it like a ghost that’s following me around.
But I’ve finally written a conclusion to A Philosophical Discourse/The Romantic and the Philosopher. (Still unsure which title I like better.) I never thought it was going to happen but perhaps I just had to move into a different time/mind frame of my life.
It’s weird thinking back on how it was all inspired and how it all spiraled out… It seems so long ago but it’s only been a few months.
I guess I struggled to write it back then was because I just wanted a conclusion, I wanted to be able to wrap everything up and say, “There. That explains it. I get it.” Or maybe I was hoping to inject fiction into it when it all seemed to be leaking out.
I don’t know, I guess it’s partially that and partially because I didn’t want it to end. I kept hoping that maybe the story would turn around and end up happily, or even just continue on. I kept holding out for that chance because we all know that eventually I stopped controlling the story and I became it’s whim.
Ah… I’m satisfied with it at least and that was getting rare in those dark old days. (Of like 4 months ago, I know I’m too dramatic sometimes.)
The weather that’s too cool for August is an insistent reminder that September is just around the corner and I would be a liar if I said that I haven’t thought of the winds blowing him back into my life.
I think at first I’d look for him, but try not too. I’d be disappointed when I won’t see him and relieved and possibly a little sad. I’ll also be disappointed if I do see him and nothing happens.
I guess I still want that apology, those pleas, the knowledge that I’m getting what I gave. In summation, a spurned lover’s fantasy.
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