I am chasing summer nights.

Cool summer nights, when the world just softly hums. I feel safe, and you are here. There would be days when we just wandered aimlessly; the sun has set, cars rushed by and we were just walking. The street lights bore a hard yellow, I didn't mind the mosquitoes too much. And you took me by the hand; I was singing (I was always singing those days - you get amused). I smiled. I smiled too much. I could hardly contain myself so I kept smiling and you didn't see.

It rains a lot in summer but I don't remember getting wet. We like the drizzle. One thunderstorm you brought me a red umbrella - with flower patterns that magically appear when rain falls on it. You were sad to part with it and I held it gingerly. You vanished mistily as through in a dream.

I remember feeling we should head back soon. But we sit. We sit and the sea is dark, but I like looking at the sea, even though it stretches endless and is full of the unknown, and I talk to you sideways. I must have been rambling. I don't remember much now but I wish I kept your words with me. I didn't think much of it then. I was careless like the wind but I have thrown my hands out. Maybe if I caught everything then I would stand a little straighter today. But the things I have captured are struggling free, and I am wondering if they were ever mine to keep.

The sky was never clear enough for stars, but there was the moon. A great grey moon. We sat on the rocks, facing the sea again. It was cool (summer nights are always cool) and I was forming my next big plan, only that I can't remember what it is now, but it felt good. I felt soft and content, with my legs sore beneath me. I would have stayed the entire night on the rocks with you, and I wouldn't have minded; I didn't even want to go home.

You are quiet these days. Perhaps it has been me the entire time. My mind has halted and all I hear is myself. I breathe and sigh, and my mind wanders off track. I still feel what I did and you're still here. But time has slowed and the world only murmurs and I don't smile or sing as much. I wonder what is wrong then I noticed you are standing. You are standing, always ready to go. I feel like a child and I don't know what I want, but I can't voice it and we don't walk or sit around anymore.

I'm still chasing summer nights; I am one year behind.