letter from the editor:
fall is my favorite season & when people ask why, I say caramel frappuccino’s & hayrides & apple picking & halloween & my favorite taylor swift album & how nobody can tell how sad you are when you’re wearing a costume. fall is my favorite season, but I resent it right now. I’m angry because fall is new england’s bitch. fall is the golden child of the upper east coast. fall cannot be loved until she is experienced in a state cold enough to deserve her. I’m angry because autumn reminds me of you. it flips to october & I cannot stop thinking of chai lattes & your breath on chapped skin & maple syrup & that one twitter conversation about how we both sleep.
a few weeks ago, I tried tearing several layers of cellophane out of the container all at once & I couldn’t & it made me think; it doesn’t matter how trivial a memory or an object or an ‘almost’ is. it matters how many things that shouldn’t matter but do ,,, & cling to each other & become the worst kind of wall – one that’s the exact amount of see through, you’re forced to look into each other’s eyes the second you give up on breaking it down.
it might seem silly for me to be cross at september, but 6 years of wrapping plastic around my shoulders & I don’t think I’ll ever be able to escape this cocoon.
it’s autumn, but georgia makes a con man of fall. it’s the start of a new month, but these feelings are old. it’s halfway to christmas and halfway from sun. and among all the half things, there’s a girl I still love.
Content warning: depression, anxiety, violence, assault, and intrusive thoughts.
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