I haven't been around lately, I know. And I doubt you miss seeing me like I miss seeing you. But maybe you remember my moles like I remember your head tattoo. I hope November has been keeping you busy and happy. And I hope to see you soon.
I love your black and white polka dots. I love your slick rubber feel. I love that you make me feel put together even when the torrents are coming down.
You've allowed me to wear dresses without tights quite a bit. And I'm not sure whether I should love or hate this. Because I want to wear bundle myself in sweaters but I know that I will wary of the snow and the white despair of winter eventually. I will want to cuddle with another and hot chocolate and sleep through your deafening mornings but will not be able too. So I guess I'll take your picturesque version of Autumn, November, and thank my geography for four seasons.
I'm sure you've been feeling neglected lately. It's been tough to find a way to write down the proper words lately. I could blame a lack of time, but I'm afraid it's a lack of wanting to write about parts of my life and a lack of knowing how to say things gracefully.
When I lived in Greece my students that you were just a holiday that prepared Americans for the feast that was to come at Christmas. I'm sorry that we're making this true. You're being blanketed in all things red and green and we're quickly forgetting the reflective peace that comes with you. If I could, I would dress myself as a pilgrim and stage a Thanksgiving play in your honor.