Dear Summer, I’m writing to tell you that I’m breaking up with you. I’m serious. We’re done. And I know I’ve told you that before, but you never seem to listen, so maybe you will when you have these concrete words in front of you. I don’t love you. Maybe I never have.
I don’t mean to be cruel, but you’re not LISTENING to me. You keep coming back around with your 90-degree hotness and humid breath. We are not an item. WE ARE NOT. Do you get that? There’s a reason why I hide from you in my house with the AC cranked. You make me uncomfortable. You make me sweat. We’re done. D-O-N-E.
You’re not a bad person, exactly. I mean, I know you’re right for SOMEONE. Go hang out in the jungle or in Miami beach…you know, places where people like to wear bikinis or banana leaves and stuff. If I wore a bikini, the brightness of my skin would cause planes to crash and upset the migratory patterns of Canada geese, and I hate those fuckers with their man-sized droppings.
I need more from a relationship. I need warmth in the form of clothing I pick out for myself and wear in LAYERS. I don’t need warmth automatically provided for me. I do not want your Hothouse of Love. I want legwarmers. There. I said it. Now you know. I. Want. Legwarmers.
You and I both know who I’m talking about. I’m talking about Autumn. God, I can’t get enough of her. She’s so brightly colored in hues I find pleasing and calming. Sometimes she cries buckets of rain, and I’m good with that. I understand MOODS. I understand DARKNESS. I want to cook Autumn a pot roast and season it with bacon. You, Summer, you’re all “Oh, I’m a Farmer’s Market. Look at my bounty! I’m a vegan!” Well, Autumn’s got bounty too. PLENTY of it. She’s stacked. Apples, squash, potatoes…and then later….TURKEY.
You can’t compete with turkey. And, you know, I’ve heard there are turkeys who eat VEGANS. (Just sayin’.)
I know this is harsh. I know that and I apologize, but you just don’t seem to hear me. I need you to go away.
That means NOW. Right now. Go away. For a while. A long while. We need some space. Autumn is going to be here any moment and it’s going to be awkward for all of us if you’re still, you know, hanging around, fluttering around the backyard and shining on stuff. Just, stop it. Stop.
We can still be friends. I mean, you’re a perfectly nice person and all. It’s just like in that Gotye song “Somebody That I Used To Know”. Now you’re just a somebody to me because Autumn—man, AUTUMN—she’s got me hooked. I’m counting the days until she gets here. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.
Go make someone else happy with your splendor. Someone who lives really far away, like in the South…or Australia. Yeah. Go to Australia. There are hobbits there who need you.