Packing up

Goodbye summer

As I gather my things to bring back to Denton for the start of the school year, I find random artifacts of summer scattered throughout my room. A dull pink glowstick from a warehouse rave for my friend’s birthday. A movie poster we grabbed after watching 21 Years Later at Alamo Drafthouse. A Dancer in the Dark soundtrack CD I found on my birthday at Half Price Books, with the friend whose couch I crashed on the night before. A PJ Harvey CD from another friend, right before he moved home for the summer. Seashells from a shop in South Padre we impulsively stopped at on our drive back. A Lorde poster from an early listening party I went to alone but left with a date, before learning he was a decade older than me which ended up being a good laugh with friends after. A clubbing dress that a friend and I both tried on during their visit back to Texas from LA. Photo booth strips from dive bars, filled with different friends and different nights.

Finding all these things reminded me how fulfilling this summer really was. While it had its strong lows, it also had its highs, with moments full of love and laughter with the people who uplift me. I hope when I look back at this summer I remember the good times before I remember the sad moments. My friendships have only strengthened from this summer and I cannot wait to see how these relationships grow and evolve with time. I didn't get much work done and I definitely spent more than I made but in the end I don't regret any of it. I love all these moments with the people who have made me feel at home.

This summer was strange because people from my past began resurfacing all at once. For nearly a month, it felt like a nonstop wave of unexpected Instagram DMs or random run-ins with old friends. I kept wondering why the universe was doing this, why everyone had come back at the same time. Most of these friendships hadn’t ended badly. Time and distance had just quietly pushed us apart. And yet, when we met up for coffee or breakfast, it was as if nothing had changed. I still cared deeply for them. It was exciting to hear what they’d been through, and strangely comforting to see that no one’s path is as linear as it might seem from the outside.

These reconnections taught me something valuable: time and distance doesn't suddenly eliminate love. I don't need to constantly be around someone to be loved by them, or to love them in return. If we both make the effort to stay in touch life changes, our relationship will deepen and grow into something even more beautiful. I have a new appreciation for the friends I once took for granted years ago. It's the drive to be in each other's lives that reminds me how much I am really loved and cared for.

I feel less afraid to say goodbye now. Goodbyes aren't permanent. All the connections I no longer see weekly or even monthly are only a phone call away. Even if our friendship is lost to time and distance like some from my past, I will still feel their love because they made me feel so loved and learned so much in the moments we had together even if I never talk to them again.

“They say it's the last song. They don't know us, you see. It's only the last song if we let it be.”

In the spare moments I have, I will keep calling my long distance friends. I won't be afraid to send a text, even if it's been a while. I will mail them homemade gifts to show my love and appreciation for being in my life. And when I (hopefully sooner than later) visit them, I know it will feel like no time has passed at all.

Thanks for reading and thanks for being in my life.

Love,

Rowan