C has written their response to the prompt “saying goodbye”

August feels like a hug before a long goodbye. It sneaks up on July out of nowhere. The sun starts to change, turning a little more orange as it filters through leaves on a warm summers night. There’s slightly softer light, a little more wind, a whisper that summer has started counting down without telling you. I think that’s what makes it so soft but heavy at the same time. It’s the last month that belongs to summer. The last moments of sand between my toes and my cheeks turning rosey from the sun. The last moments of sitting around the campfire talking nonsense with my bestfriends. The last moments of playing games all night and watching the sunrise together without a care in the world. The last moments of piling into the bed of a beat up red pickup truck and driving around with the warm wind in our hair. It’s the last month that still belongs to summer and the first month that starts quietly grieving it.

There’s a version of loneliness that only exists in August. Not sadness completely but a sense of awareness. Aware that a chapter is closing, that people are leaving, that goodbyes are due, that doors are sliding themselves shut while you’re still in the room. But maybe goodbyes deserve more than dread. Maybe August is not the last grasp of something dying but proof that not everything beautiful has to last forever to matter completely. So I sit here and take in the light. That specific kind of golden that only shows up in August evenings. Not the sharp gold of July but something heavier, slower, like the whole sky is trying to hold onto itself a little longer before letting go, like it knows this is its final performance and wants to be remembered well.

I wish I could hold onto July forever. But I have to let it go. Even better things lie ahead, and I’m in no spot to hold back time. So let August flow through you. Let it be what it is. A goodbye disguised as an ordinary month, asking you to notice everything one more time before it’s gone.

And I do. I take it all in and store it in the back of my mind for when I miss July. And on a cold winters night when I’m all alone I can filter back through and feel the warmth of July again. I’ll remember how the sun creates freckles on his cheeks, I’ll remember his laughter, his hugs, his smile, his comfort, his support, his love. And every time I see a glimpse of red driving down the street I’ll remember his stupid red pickup truck. So as August barrels through and leaves us dry, I say goodbye to summer but I’ll always hold onto the memories of July.