One Summer Day, or Those Summer Days.
Repost from May 18th, 2018
Back in the day, I was awful at Literature. Every time we had a class, I would zone out and fall asleep, completely clueless. But there was this one moment that stuck with me—something I heard and just can’t forget.
It was when my teacher talked about a lesson involving the topic of music. Music is one of my best friends, so of course I paid attention to it more than other topics. My teacher asked us: “What makes a song good to you?”. After letting the class debate endlessly about what makes a song “good,” she said: “To me, a good song is one that fits your mood.”
That hit me—hard. It was so true, and it has stayed with me ever since. When I find myself in a song, it somehow becomes ten times better. It feels like someone out there understands me, even just a little. Even if I don’t say a word. In those moments, I don’t feel so alone.
Like now, on a Sunday morning in the middle of summer, I can’t stop thinking about the melody of One Summer’s Day.
“There is a story deep inside my heart. So far away, but I will never forget.
All that wind in my hair and, all that love in the air, and so much to see.
Oh. I learned to breathe.
One deep breath, and all my memories begin to fly.
When they touch my world, we’ll sing a lullaby, soaring through the sky … “
This summer day—or maybe those summer days long ago, back in those years—wandering along roads both familiar and new, with the wind rushing past and the sunlight turning everything gold. I wonder how many moments like this we get to truly live.
“… When I close my eyes, it’s there: The road that’s taken me to you.
No matter where I go, I can see the truth.
All the choices every day—fate will take me there someday.
The sun shines through the leaves. Taste that special golden breeze …”
And when I close my eyes, there you are. That road I keep remembering—it’s not the road itself I miss; I’m just missing you. Don’t laugh; people are allowed to feel what they feel. Just like they’re allowed to write down what’s in their heart.
Thank you for always being my most beautiful memory.
“Never regret. Don’t forget each precious thread
Of that summer’s day.”
And then I open my eyes, and this summer day is here again—just another ordinary, almost mundane Sunday morning. I wonder if there’s a way to make it feel a little more extraordinary. The lone wolf gets up and makes himself a cup of coffee.
Here is to another May in the story of my youth. I feel a bit lonely, unsure of the future. This is my 2nd summer in a foreign land. As the adrenalin, or excitement, is fading away, I start to question my decision, and start to wonder what my next steps will be.
And then, I sigh. Because I know I need to stay focused and stay hopeful.