Arrivederci, Summer

With the ending of summer comes the ending of romance whether it is romanticized friendship, relationship. As my friends grieve the fleeting summer nights, I lament the loss of days. I count each and every day with news articles and text messages sent to friends. While everyone else is trying to survive month by month, paycheck by paycheck, I am living day to day. I am auspicious if I can survive one more day. But it's not so dire; I just seek pleasure in inflating my situation and hyperbolizing could-bes, would-have-beens, should-have-beens.

I feel like I have wasted another summer, another year. This year, what should have been my "off time to find myself" turned into an off time of networking and sporadic job-hunting. Nothing gets accomplished without certain amount of planning. I didn't plan at all. It's not that I didn't do anything at all. I made many friends on the steps of Union Square and I learned a lot from carrying whimsical conversations with strangers. I don't write things down. For someone who calls himself a writer and carries a journal with him everyday, it's hard to believe that I don't record my plans on a piece of paper or just type it into my phone that I'm attached to every second of the day. Networking event after networking event, acquaintance after acquaintance, one LinkedIn account after another, everything becomes a blur and I am ready to forfeit this search and work as a barista and settle for a life of mediocrity and complacency.

This morning I rolled around in bed for an hour and a half, just enough time to make my stomach hungry. Usually I would give Stephanie a wake up call. She's currently back in Stony Brook.  I don't understand how people tend to long distance relationships because I value physical space and proximity as litmus test for my friendships and relationships. When I didn't see Linda for over two weeks I was starved of friendship. When I didn't see Stephanie for more than two days I called her with hopeless intent, to which she responded "You couldn't last for more than two days!" I consider this a residue of detachment issues born when I was a child. 

I take things personal sometimes, without reason. I suppose I unconsciously see anyone's departing me as a way of saying goodbye. Nobody is permanently saying goodbye to me, but I assume the worst. I remember when I hung out with Ulises for the first time. A gay male, musician, and warm soul, he treated with respect and displayed comraderie like a big brother. I departed with him begrudgingly at the Hunter College stop. He told me later in his texts that I looked incredibly sad when he said goodbye to me and left for the uptown platform. I didn't notice this, but he did.

There are so many things associated with the ending of summer. Given my easy sentimentality I seek solace in hedonistic acts like chasing sunsets, shooting photographs of strangers, dining with friends, gallivanting in art galleries, and just being carefree. With the ending of summer comes the ending of careless responsibility and taking-it-for-granted atmosphere.