Another Letter to July

Hey July

So you weren't as bad as I made you out to be.

In fact, you weren't really "bad" at all!

I think I'm not used to there being flaws in my summers... Maybe that sounds kind of shallow, and I'm sorry, but it's true. Summertime has always been, for me at least, a time of reverie and constant excitement and non-stop partypartyparty. 

But when it's not like that... when I can feel the gaping holes in my life become more vivid during the still silence of summer nights, I get a little bit sad, July. Because, let's be honest, I really love perfect summers. They're the kind of summers that don't really exist, but you're so blindingly brilliant that you make me feel like they do. (That was a compliment, July. Take it or leave it.)

So, what I'm saying is: I'm sorry for being so grumpy.

You've really been quite the gentleman to me. I had a wonderful time spending long days with you, falling asleep in your warm embrace and waking up in your arms. You even let me wander off with some dear friends of mine. That was nice.

You know what, July? You're one of my biggest inspirations, it seems...

That being said, I'm eager to reunite with your brother August and see what he has in store. (That sly bastard's always got something up his sleeve, doesn't he?) ;)

Ciao for now,



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