I’ve never liked summer. Even when I was little I dreaded the change of weather. The thought of legs sticking to school chairs and constantly squinting and always feeling halfway to dehydrated made me cringe. Spring is nice – but mid-October has always come with fury, changing 26 to 36 and bringing the worst out of me.
This year is different. Coinciding with the sun coming out, I’ve met a girl.
She sometimes writes in capital letters and hates baking (even though she spends a lot of time doing it) and calls me baby and pronounces the T is ‘cute’ in a way that makes me like the word for the first time. We eat rice and tofu and she likes my thighs and I love her arms and her only days off are Mondays, so I spend all week hoping the sun is shining for her.
Last week she told me about a band and I said I loved them and she looked at me and laughed and kissed my mouth and she told me on our first date she doesn’t see the point in buying flowers for someone (she just fed me some of the cheesecake she’s making) and as much I like sunflowers and natives, I like this tornado of a woman – who has a fire in her belly (and just made me get rid of a bug in the kitchen) – more.
Food shopping and washing up and after-work drinks feel like a love letter today.
Words by Caitlin Tait.
Image by Ben Neale.
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