Change has dictated my entire life, and sometimes, consistency and permanence can give me a harder time.
Fall will always be my favorite time of year. Growing up, I could guarantee if I could just make it to September, when the leaves began to litter the ground and nature proved all over again it could be extravagantly wasteful, things would be stable. Spring on the other hand grew anxiety. As the heat swelled around the house, more boxes were stored and stacked. Each degree gained marked another day lost with friends. Suddenly, as most children pleaded with the stars for summer, my nails clawed against chalk boards and lockers, attempting to slow the spin, so I wouldn’t have to say goodbye. For a military child, you may not move every year. In fact, most families move every other year, giving you two halloweens, two christmases, two valentines, and two birthdays to enjoy. My dad, a dentist, followed (well, follows) the flow of the infantry, getting all the boys and their dirty mouths ready for ‘peaceful pacifications abroad,’ which meant we moved on the every other year as most. So, you make friends, you laugh, but with an imperativeness unmatchable in civilian constructions. You’re courageous and foolish with your actions because you’re not promised another opportunity for more time. Before email and video chat, a few hand written letters would connect you to your previous life, but the door would close, leaving behind the past completely with a new chance to reinvent yourself. (I think I’ve traded some of that impulsiveness for maturity. Perhaps.) My checks are a little callous from goodbye tears. You, sadly, get used to it.
Back to the point, I can’t stand summer. I can’t stand white walls and the feel of cardboard. The stillness in the summer air marks the foreboding twilight and catches my breathe every year. But then, fall comes. Beautiful serene fall. Cool and calming fall. The fact is, Athens has been one of the longer ‘falls’ of my life. Somehow, all those previous moves brought security, comfort in the consistency of change. For the first time, I have kept friends for years and relied only on gradual reinvention (With a note of the previous paragraph) The version of myself I enjoy the most has flourished in Athens, and I possess pleasant hopes for the changes to come. The changes are welcomed. I’m nervous about my next transition, but I made it through another physical summer, so maybe the hypothetical won’t be so bad.
Now I just need to figure out how to end my ‘love affair’ with Athens and remain ‘just friends.’