May never fails to be one of my favorite months of the year. I think I enjoy the dawny sweat of its position in the calendar. We haven't completely compromised the summer months yet; winter may have never existed; indeed the ice breaks some time after March and there's no looking back.
And there's always something to have a nervous stomach about, this year being no different. Right from the very first day, as a matter of fact (e-mail pro: they're always dated) I had started a sort of correspondence that's lasted the better part of the month. I hadn't exactly experienced before the fine tuned and surprisingly intimate benefits of letter writing as a means of exploratory courtship and most recently I've had a conversation with a friend of mine about just how compelling it can be.
Alas, who knows where it will go. Maybe it's too much. Sometimes I see myself as a gross consumer of thrills. The past thirty days have been right on the mark in terms of the elated ups and cynical lows. And I don't want that static canicular day to come when I've all but gone to fits. I don't really want to lose this but I'm trying to keep my lesson learned that I should never ever hold on to anything, gravity does all the pulling I should need. It would just be nice to have this stick around a while. Am I really so rootless.
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