By Annaliese Meyer
Hey, it’s Shame.
I’m writing to you out of deep concern. I’ve watched you carefully as all of the goals you set for summer have cascaded past you through the black sky like a shooting star. Each glimmering opportunity missed, your hand, just out of reach. You did not catch that falling star, nor put it in your pocket, nor save it for a rainy day.
Coward! Each Saturday night you were invited to go out you declined! Even though you dreamed of bedazzled crop tops and wandering along the beach in the warm summer night to watch the sunrise burst forth and shine its rays upon your drunk, make-up smudged eyes, you did not. It seems from what I’ve heard, instead most nights you chose a stained grey on grey Rocky-like tracksuit and the Duffer brothers as company. Instead of making real friends you lived vicariously through El, Mike, Dustin and Lucas, dreaming of the upside down place and researching the Cold War. You maniac! You scoundrel! Don’t you realize that winter is coming? Oh yes, the sun may still set at eight but September is like a kiss from a lover who plans to leave you, so sweet it’s sickening.
Why didn’t you take advantage of the time you had!? Why didn’t you go to Kensington and buy that white linen dress you’ve always wanted? Labour Day has come and gone now. Why didn’t you go to The Lockhart, instead of reading The Cursed Child? You knew it could only disappoint! Voldemort bore a child? It’s madness.
The heat was thick, I’ll give you that. Like a great big quilted blanket smothering all the life from you. The sun was relentless, like a buzzing house fly trying to escape through a closed screen door. But that’s what freedom is about! Sexy hook ups, sunburns and music festivals! (Or at least that’s what I’m told).
Though you haven’t participated in the hit and run of a lonely sea man, you’ve done something much, much worse. You’ve enjoyed yourself, done exactly what’s made you happy. So sleep with one eye open, I am and will always be a part of you.