Summer is the reason I have no money. Summer must now be talked about in past tense.
Summer was friends, and letting-go-and-growing-up, and welcoming adventure, and regaining independence, and acknowledging my deep deep need for friends and life and laughter. And a good white wine.
Summer was hair straighteners and broken wine glasses, and communal bronzer, and endless repeats of Sex and the City. Never getting around to using the shisha pipe, and laughing at embarrassing photos, and attempts at fitness, and muffins on the window sill. The wonders of a Nespresso Machine, Taylor Swift, lost keys, shared passes, midnight police visits. Communal floor-drobes.
Summer was these two, and our crazy 3 months living in Bondi. Going to the Eastern and spending the whole time in the sports bar talking out all our secrets…Ah dear.
Visits from blonde bombshells from Melbourne. Heart friends whose advice you find yourself taking so much that your whole life changes, and you can finally let go of old loves, and move forward towards life knowing that you’re strong and beautiful and whole, as long as women like this are part of your life.
Getting into Ivy Pool by being plucked out of the line (simple pleasures for vanity) and thanking them by stealing their funky cups.
So much summer love....
Deciding that of all kinds of friends, there’s something about old friends that can’t be denied. Crying and fighting and making up and coming to the realization that there are some friends you could never ask more from, because as they are, they complete you.