I miss you, summer. I miss riding in convertibles with you. I look at the hammock in my closet and think of the days I spent happily ensconced there in your warm embrace. Barbecues aren't the same without you, and ice cream just doesn't appeal to me these days. Even baseball, despite spring training and the fall classic, just isn't the same without summer.
We had a deal. You could come early, then leave for a while, like you did last year, and you could stay late, like you did the year before. But no matter what, you were supposed to be here by yesterday, and to stick around until labor day, at least. That's not very long. Is that too much of a commitment for you?
In return, I promised to take full advantage of you, to make the most of our summer fling, to show you off to my friends at our cookouts, to take you hiking, to ogle your beauty at the beach, to go sailing with you, to laze around at the Hatch listening to Herbie Hancock and enjoying your company. Was that not enough? I can do more! I promise!
I'm sorry if some of my friends were rude last year, complaining that you were "oppressive" and "too much" and even calling you "sticky." I tried to tell them that you were still better than your bitch sister, winter, but they wouldn't listen. Now I fear they may have scared you away for good. I really mean it....I'm sorry! We'll be better this year! Come Back! My friends and I miss you...