She was summer.

What do you do when you like and dislike something with the same fervour? He didn’t know either.

She was his summer. Her energy tired him. She didn’t know any better.

There were days he longed for the rain. But every time it rained, he found himself yearning for her.  He wanted her. That he needed her was a truth he had long accepted.

He liked her with a passion so strong that it sickened him.
He never told her.
She never asked.

She was summer.
She always burned bright.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s