I’ve got that summertime, summertime sadness.
For the majority of the people, summer is the season when happiness becomes the meaning of a life. I don’t like that. Most of the time I hate summer. I hate the extremely hot weather that burns your skin. I hate the loneliness that summer has. I hate being left alone, a habit that I have the last years. I hate that other people are happy. I hate the sun. I hate the sea. I hate the saltiness it has that sticks in your body for the rest of the day.
Maybe I hate all these things so much because I love them in an extremely way.
I like winter when hearts and souls are cold and closed and they are looking desperate for a warm breath of yours.