The scent that Summer leaves.

sometimes it’s just like this. this night that you’ve only half concocted in your head. dreamed about before and twirled in your mind and you pin your hopes on these thougts sometimes.

something as simple as going to the store together. but it’s not just that. it’s everything else too.

it’s coming home when it’s still light outside and he’s inside waiting for you, this little abode that’s spruced and exactly what you want it to be. and he offers to get you the wine you’re craving, but wait a second, i’ll come with. let me just change a little. so now it’s low slung pants/shorts that barely go past your knees and flip flops and it fits because the night is so very obviously the first beginings of summer and if you try very hard you can smell the barbeque, you can smell the tanning oil, you can smell the life. and something about the combination makes you a little dizzy because all of it symbolizes carefree and where you want to be.

so you’re there. at the little, stylish market and you’re both scurrying down the aisles, together and not together and you meet up. he’s got some salmon pieces, i’ve got some flowers. There are kisses and joy in splitting and meeting again. we came for cheese, but what we found was this whole other life exploding outside and people in their flimsy shorts and skirts and tan shoulders and you want to be a part of it and it feels good. It feels like California, the only place you want to be. you want that barbeque and you want those tan lines, the friends and the laughter and the simple comfort of picking out appetizers to snack on as you make dinner together later on, still sipping on that wine.

it’s a feeling of compatibility and secrets, happiness at the way you’re both out together on a night that’s almost weekend, but not yet, just hang on a little longer. sharing with the other people around you though you don’t’ say much to them. it’s kind of a blossoming, the end of a cocoon and it’s time to be out there.

these are the evenings you pictured.

and once you’re home again, the feeling doesn’t dissipate. it just mellows and waits for the next time and wonders what else is to come. because it’s understood that this is a beginning. not just a one off, but a beginning. and there is nothing better than that first start where hope is still out there so sweet you can almost inhale it.