I Am Finally Breaking Up With Summer

After years of hot and cold, I found I prefer cold.

I’ve finally ended my love affair with summer. We’ve both been seeing other people for a while, but we’ve only just now reached a mutual decision to end things. Summer and I have irreconcilable differences and I want to go away and chill for a while, maybe with autumn, possibly spring.

Summer Loving

Our love began when I was young, growing up in Texas. Summer was the season when school was out and vacations were coming. Summer was the time of Six Flags and Disney Land, of family outings for ice cream or snow cones. Summer meant no homework and days of swimming in the lake or at the pool.

As I grew older, summer and my relationship grew more serious. In college, summer still meant a reprieve from homework, but she also meant an additional summer job. I spent one summer as an intern at the Dallas Museum of Natural History. I spent another in Shreveport, LA preparing high school students for their SATs. Summer offered me fun jobs and the chance to take the top down on my Jeep and drive around in the sunshine.

Those halcyon days with summer also gave me lazy days of floating down the Guadalupe, San Marcos, or Comal Rivers in a cowboy hat with a styrofoam cooler of Shiner Boch beer.

Summer was fun. Summer was a party girl.

Seeing Other Seasons

Then I moved to Santa Monica, California — a few blocks from the beach. I bought a bunch of surfboards and lived in the water. Santa Monica and the California coast provided a virtual endless summer, even in the autumn. I quickly learned the waves weren’t as good in the summer. In fact, autumn was the best time for bigger swells and better waves.

Summer and I had our first real falling out after I left California and moved to Park City, Utah. I got a cabin on the mountain, nestled above historic Main Street.

In Park City, summer changed. She became hot and temperamental. We bickered about the heat. She would eventually wander off, allowing autumn to decorate the mountain in a gorgeous array of colors before the real fun began. In Park City, I began seeing winter.

At first, it was just a seasonal fling. However, I bought a season ski pass and suddenly things seemed more serious. Winter and I spent days together on the mountain, kicking up powder, and bombing the long runs. We’d take a rest mid-mountain with a glass of mulled wine and then go back at it, carving down the mountain.

Winter gave me a chance to try new things like puffy coats and snow boots. She liked roaring fires at night and hot cocoa breaks throughout the day. Winter could be cold, but only at first brush. Once I got to know her, winter was just as fun as summer.

Summer and I Were On a Break

I left Park City for London, and that’s when summer and I took our first break. She wasn’t really around much. She wanted some space, so I spent most of my time with spring and autumn and their endless succession of drizzly days. I didn’t mind. Spring told me I should buy some Wellies and a Burberry coat and I did. Autumn recommended I buy a sturdy umbrella, so I got one of those too. While some people think grey weather is depressing, the cloud-covered hills of Britain inspired me. I liked overcast and cool.

The more time I spent in London, the less I thought about summer.

A Summery Reconciliation

Then I moved to Romania, and summer came back to me. She arrived at my place with all her baggage and acted as if the last few years apart never happened. It was nice at first. Then her attention began to feel stifling.

Summer followed me everywhere. She was clingy, draping me in humidity and throwing her warm arms around me the moment I stepped outside.

I would show up to meet friends dripping in sweat because summer refused to leave me alone. She became short-tempered, grumbling about everything, and incessantly blowing hot air.

Summer no longer suggested lazy river floats. She just wanted to see me sweat. She mocked me and my perspiration, cackling cruelly as I mopped my brow with yet another cafe napkin.

The Last Days of Summer

I looked at summer and realized I’d outgrown her. I was long past the years of a summer break between semesters. Since I don’t have kids, I avoid price-gouging summer holidays. I prefer autumn vacations when everyone else’s children are back in school.

I sensed my love affair with summer was at an end and told her, “We aren’t good for each other anymore. I don’t want to sweat my relationship or sleep with the AC on.”

She agreed. She said she had met someone younger who really liked her — who wanted the heat. I smiled.

It’s not an entirely clean break, not yet. I saw her outside my window yesterday, peeking in. Sometimes when I walk down the street, I get the sense she is following me. She’ll eventually move on.

We will always have Disney Land. We will always have the Guadalupe. And I’m sure we will bump into each other again someday, but for now, I want to cool my jets and just be.

Goodbye, summer. You’ll always have a warm place in my heart.