I miss the faint smell of sunscreen that permanently lingers in the air.
I haven't forgotten the chills I would get when a single bead of sweat would roll off of my back and onto my towel after just the first fifteen minutes of laying in the sun.
I want to set my thermostat to 65 to cool me down, not warm me up.
I miss how days roll into nights and nights roll into days much less dramatically. Darkness slowly comes and night time seems to settle, not just appear. But sometimes nights can turn into mornings faster than you expect.
I'm craving watermelon, and a frozen Del's Lemonade for the ride home from Narragansett.
I miss being a local in a place where everyone else is a tourist. I hate the traffic they bring to the streets of Newport, their large Chevy Suburbans packed with six Aryan children and all of their buggy boards. But I love the feeling of superiority they give me; I feel somehow privileged being able to say "I live here, you don't, get the fuck out of my way."
I want to air my house out. Open all the windows, and clean it top to bottom. Make it smell like Pine Sol, clean sheets, Yankee Candles and outside.
I want to smoke in joe's car and drive to the Scituate Reservoir with the sunroof open even though the sun is long gone and it's a chill 70 degrees outside.
I can't wait for meaningless romances to quickly begin and then end just as fast. The sun makes boys look so much better for some reason. Once it starts to get colder you realize that you have no idea why you were attracted to them in the first place, and head back to school with no closure.
I'm excited to not have anything to do at night. No papers to write, no meetings to go to. My to-do list includes rolling a joint and seeing where the night takes me.
I just want summer. Really frigen bad.
