That night we drove up to the Christmas star that lit the mountain in wintertime. But it was summer now, and it was dreadfully dark. Two of the boys I loved took us there, and we climbed in the black night, up to the Christmas star. I sat down under it, and we all spread out. The boy I knew I would love soon sat behind me to my left, and the boy I already loved stood to the right of me and smoked cigarettes. The other one climbed a tree. And we all sat there, silent, looking down into the lights of the town we loved so dearly this summer.
Sitting there four months ago, it did not cross my mind that this would soon end. That the music which brought me such ecstasy would no longer be right outside my door, beckoning me into the night and kissing me farewell in the early morning. The boys I loved would be gone or would forget that they ever cared much about me (or I would remember that they never did). I would be far away at the sullen end of town. Where trees are sparse and where there are no cafes with beautiful and terrifying souls. Soon I would take my guitar to my miserable little apartment, and after a few sad chords I'd put it away to rot, just like the summer would slowly rot away, and just as I would rot along with them.
No, I did not think about that then, I couldn't fathom it, 'else I'd tear up and act like a fool. I just sat there in silence, unsure of whether it was a comfortable one or not. And I wondered what the boys I loved thought of that night. Maybe they thought of the things I wouldn't let myself think. Maybe of lovers come and gone. Maybe their own demons filled their minds that night, and they sat in lonesome, recalling how wretched everything really is. Or maybe they looked at our darling town in wonder and awe, silently joyous at the magnificence of it all. I know I felt that, along with anticipation of the long summer ahead, basking in the dreams of its potential. Foolishly, I let that summer live up to that potential, and now it is all gone. I am left a rotten, miserable, lonesome girl with nothing much to say.
If it seems that I have no hope, I understand. But it's just not true. Someday soon a new summer will start. I'll fall in love with other strange souls and they'll love me in their own way. Someone will think I'm dandy for a while; sing me their songs and kiss my face. And everything will continue in this circle.
Until someday one of those boys I come to love will want to stay for a while longer, and someday I won't be miserable and rotten. I'll just be me, and finally, somehow, it will be enough.