I love fall. You do too? NO. YOU DON’T. NO ONE HAS EVER LOVED FALL THE WAY I DO.
I love fall. You do too? HOLY CRAP WHAT ARE THE ODDS????!
Fucking SWEATERS, am I right?
Wow leaves. So crunch.
Apples and hot drunken drinks. Cinnamon overdose.
All irony aside, I do love fall. Er, I did love fall, but when you live in a place where the weather always feels like fall, you do miss that critical changing of seasons. That turn from sun-bleached blue and yellow days, dinners on the patio, grilling and a case of beer, nothing for the heat but to take an icy drink to the pool, bright and blinding summer to the apple crispness of earth-toned fall. You miss that smell, you know? Where your nose is suddenly no longer full of humid air and chlorine, but the sweet coolness of autumn, of things that are dying but not dead, of change and possibility. The smell of someone burning wood somewhere in the distance that thumps you in the chest with a campfire-hazed memory of s’mores, cider, and laughter which may not belong to you, but to which you’d give anything to return.
I fucking love fall.
P.S.
The long form of the first part of that gif is terrifying. Goddamn Francine. Gonna eat your face.
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