Honey suckles

I write, everyday; however, I don't usually share it. This blog is for updates through treatment and recovery. And now those are coming to a close, as I prepare to move. But thought, I'd share my writing with you, today.

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innocence. 7:34 pm.

I almost forgot how sweet Doylestown smelled in the summertime. Since last summer was filled with different scents, this, being the first time in a while. I have time to smell the honey suckles. Which brings me back to summers here, when I was younger, when I was naive and pure and incredibly ignorant of what was outside of this bubble. That I call home.

Memories of graduations, memories of being on the back deck with old, old friends. It was nice to think, that heartache revolved around a crush on a boy. That real destruction of our identity stemmed from a rumor through the hallways. That a final goodbye... really did not have anything 'final' about it. But would instead, be a temporary farewell.

I missed the smell last summer, as I was too focused on old treatments and being angry at the world. I didn't take the time to think about how young, I was at one point. Or how young, we all were. At one point. The summer nights we'd lay in the fresh cut grass, thinking how invincible we were. Me, armed with a light blue dress and curls. You, with arrogance and assurance that in the end, it'll all be okay.

I've been in different states and cities, most of my summers. But none have the smell of Doylestown, and the honey suckles we used to pick off the elementary school fences, so long ago.

And I realized tonight, how, for so long. I've strived to be an adult. To be responsible. To grow up. To keep moving. And yet, here I am, wishing that somehow. I could still slip on that small, blue summer dress.

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Today I am grateful for: old, old friends. who still put me in my place.
Today I smile for: black raspberry water ice and eyebrows!

Today I miss: being thirteen

- B