Wednesday, June 2, 2010

This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race - Fall Out Boy

That summer was so idyllic while it lasted; it came straight from the pages of a chick lit-novel,a cheesy American film and my own teenage imagination.

Under the glare of a sun at the very pinnacle of its height we lazed on beach-towels, on manicured lawns, on courtyard pavers. What a group we were, to be so close to one another and yet bury so many secrets deep within ourselves.

It was the summer we never wanted to end - blistering days spent submerged in swimming pools and thick, heavy nights in front of television screens laughing at one show or the next.

How do you describe such ignorant perfection? A summer so unreal that it could never actually exist.

No surprises that it soon vanished as quickly as a cloud at noon in December.

A small betrayal; a lie told. Hearts broken and treasured Christmas gifts returned in fits of rage. White burning anger, a sickening realisation and feigned confusion tore apart that perfect summer and replaced it with endless scorching days, sleepless nights and a friendship too broken to ever be repaired.

Oh, the summer of 2006-2007.

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