Summer after summer, I would look forward to wasting it away with someone special. I wanted to go on journeys and make unforgettable memories. I imagine all the Polaroids we can take of all the places we’d go to with all the things we’ve done. I expected an occupied passenger seat and sharing the excitement as we would sing along to our favorite bands. I wanted kisses under the fireworks, holding hands through the woods, movies at midnight, and sentimental teddy bear won at the carnival. Summers have always been hopeful times of my life. But with hope brings disappointment. Those things never happened, they probably never will. “Maybe this year will different,” I would lie to myself. I read too many books and watch too many movies and reality has been something I’ve always been running from. Is that why they call the autumn, fall? Because it hurts when summer is finally over, and you realize it went by with nothing special at all.