and every autumn singes

And it is fall again. Fall, fall, fall with it's candy-colored leaves that cover the ground in piles that crunch beneath our feet. It is a pleasant sound, and it fits with the chill that sweeps across our bodies, so specific to autumn that it cannot really be explained with words or gestures or anything else. But maybe with the act of putting on a sweater and your favorite corduroy pants. And getting out your winter clothes, just in case, just in case. The days get shorter and the breeze gets colder and the nights get longer and we all get a little bit restless. Autumn is falling in love and falling in lust. It is new beginnings and change. It is wanting to be different and new for no reason or every reason there ever was. It is missing past loves and old friends. It is aching for an excuse to break routine and fall into adventure and spontaneity. It is desperately needing to hold his hand and feel his cheek against your cheek and his lips against your lips with everything you have inside of you. It is your favorite song playing on the radio when you start the car and your mother reminding you to wear a coat when you go outside.

I am a Nevadan now. Only a Californian once a month during my visits to my father's. His beach side abode with wood floors and high ceilings and comfy chairs on a deck with an ocean view. I like sitting next to him in the early morning, when the fog is still lifting, slowly slowly, sipping coffee with milk and sugar in big big mugs, so hot you can see the steam swirling up and out. But these are the only times I wish to be in California. The desert is my home now. Dry heat that seeps into your skin. Sunlight that is always golden. Rain that is always warm. It is my home.

I want to feel the way you made me feel again. Kissing slowly and passionately in each others arms as Geggy Tah played in your room, so loud and deafening. Our conversations that were deep and meaningful and actually about something, anything. How we could lay side by side for hours and never even say a word. I want it back.

There is a boy. A new boy. He is tall and blonde and beautiful and smart and shy and quiet and enjoys good music and has a velvet voice and lovely eyes. He finds his way into my dreams more often than not and I have a feeling something shall come out of this. Sometimes you just know, and I just know. I know, I know, I know.

I am not who I used to be. And I have finally figured out that this is a good, good thing.

"Life is not bliss, life it just this... it is living."