Catharsis

Rain, rain, rain, beats down on us, and I smile.

I will remember this, I have to, because this is good.

This is words of happiness and new-found friendship, solid curiosity and care. This is rain and people, mixed together into one big crowd of adolescence, strangers mixing with friends and people trying to hold on to the last days of a summer soon to be over. This is security. This is rain, rain, rain, in my hair, on my glasses, on my leather jacket. This is good.

But it isn't catharsis.

The sun is hipocrisy in a star. It is warm and bright, but instead of bringing light and clarity, it only glues my eyelids to my cheeks, it only blinds me. It is hot and unforgiving, and it burns my skin, burns it into crimson softness.

Summer is absense and loneliness. It is days and hours of peace.

But it isn't catharsis.

Then what is?

Because I forget, just like i wanted to - the summer makes me forget, the rain tries to wash it all away, the sunlight tries to erase any evidence of the past year.

It feels like a catharsis to me.

But the moment I step back into the every day life that is my life, the summer disappears, fading away quickly, as if it was never there to begin with.