Time

You can feel the fall on the air tonight.

I’m starting this entry at 8:16pm, and the sun’s already been below the horizon line for about forty or so minutes.  Not even a few weeks ago, it was bright and hot around this time.

Every year that feeling comes back.  You know, that heavy-hearted, really, truly shitty awareness that summer’s on its last legs.  Used to affect me quite a bit, and it still does, but this year’s different.  This year, I saw it coming.

We spend so much time wondering about time.  “Where did all the time go?”  I used to do this at whatever office I was working, but I feel, almost a year out of my last office job (which I hope will be my last office job, anyway) that this summer has indeed lasted forever.

I think back to the beginning of the month, when I had a night out with my Hamilton friends and hung out with the undergrads of my Fraternity chapter, followed by a family picnic two days afterwards. Though it’s only been three weeks, it feels like much further back in time.  The Canada Day camp out I had in Grimsby feels ancient, like another life altogether.  This really feels, for the first time in a while, that I’ve experienced summer, soaked it in as much as I could.  I want more of this.

This post really has no purpose or moral other than me spilling out all the feels I’ve got right now as we approach Labour Day weekend.  In a way, blogs should retain that quality.  There are so many social media “experts” in my life waiting to give me unsolicited advice on how long these entries should be, which tags to use to best reach my target audience, and which ways to promote – honestly, guys, shut the fuck up for a minute.  Sometimes I just want to write what I feel without considering my Klout score.

And what I feel right now is lucid.  I’m awake and aware of the passage of time,  the shortening days, the shock of cold on the wind that reminds me that for all of the heat of daylight, we do live in a northern country, and that carries with it certain inevitabilities, like autumn, and snow.

The lonely feeling is there, too, not gonna lie.  There’s no better reminder of the limits of our stubborn individualism than the chill of a night wind on a late August night that only a woman’s body can warm.  Though I’ve long since learned to lean into the discomfort of that cold air and not only survive, but thrive, it’s nights like these that make me miss it.  Makes me wonder if that’s how I should spend my time, and…yep, there’s that faint hint of fall desperation I used to feel at this time of year.

No matter.  It’s been a great summer, and there’s still a few good weeks of the season left.  If the months up until this point are any indicator, I’ll make the most of the time, and experience as much of the moments as I can.  And I’ll do the same for autumn, and winter.

I took this break from my old life to make a clean break from all the things that I thought I wanted, but that made me wonder where the time went.  A new life is emerging from this time, a new identity.  A version of life that will have, among other experiences, the warmth of a special woman’s body next to me on cold nights; a work-life set up that will serve for me for the first time ever; and, in the next few months, a new home for myself in a familiar community of the people closest to me.

Time’s always running out for something, but notice how much more of it just keeps on coming down the line.  Soak it up anyway, no matter how mundane your day is.  Soak it up. Every. Last. Minute.  Then you’ll never have to ask again where the time’s all gone.

8:55pm.  Not bad, not bad at all.

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