a love letter to summertime

Humid air and sundresses. I loved the way that summer looked on everyone: sun kissed skin, drunken smiles, hearts that beat a little faster and touches that lingered a little longer. The nighttime can get  you feeling like that, watching the way that the fireworks suddenly light up the dark night sky - loudly, brightly, unapologetically. It leaves you hoping that you might have the same effect on people.

She can't help but bleed together like all the colors in a sunset. Sunset & Vine on a Friday night still can make you feel so alone. Some days, you wake up hungry for something that you just can't find around here. That's when you know it's time to go. Pack your things, kiss them goodbye, and don't ever look back into that rearview mirror.

It's the way the season goes: diamond minds turn to madness at the sight of a pretty girl in a red dress; dreamers and realists share a laugh over happy hour; you and I might finally have a shot at this after all these years of bad timing. I thought I was in love with summertime, but I think I'm just infatuated with the elusiveness of it all: even when it's here, it's not. The possibility will always lie in tomorrow.

dress / Nasty Gal
necklaces / thrifted
shoes / Nordstrom