It’s So Hot

It’s suffocating sometimes, the summer.  It’s heat is like a poison that seeps in through your walls and flows freely through your open windows.  Before lunch time hits you’re sweating and have to peel yourself off of the couch.  The sun is high in the sky and beating down at everything out in the open.  Its as inescapable as someone saying, “it’s so hot.”

People love to bitch about the weather, though.  They complain in the winter of the cold and snow, then when summer rolls around they start on about how it’s too hot.  There are also the dip-shits who complain about people’s complaining.  Never missing a chance to interject when their comment was never wanted to begin with.  It’s more likely that people just love to fucking complain, just as I’m doing.  We’ll call it therapy.

Of course there are different variations of hot across the world.  I want to verbally rip a hole through any person who utters the lines, “well at least you’re not in-,” and then say somewhere worse off.

I’m not there though, I’m here.  Where it’s uncomfortable.  Shut up, because nobody asked you.  Nobody needs to be reminded that it’s hot.  It’s like a loud exhale, letting the words out.

When you’re fidgeting on the couch and adjusting your position for the fifth time in the last hour because of the sweat dripping down your neck, you already know its hot.  I know its hot when I look at your flushed face and how pale read it is.  The heat makes you look so tired.  I’ve thought about filling a cup of cold water and pouring it down your back just to cool you down, and selfishly to hear you squeal in surprise.  I don’t think I could take the retaliation though.

You always talk about sun bathing outside in the yard.  Claiming you want to tan, although I’ve never minded your pale looking skin.

“It’s not up to you,” you would shoot back.

Good point.  I let you be after that.  Anything you did to make yourself feel better about how you looked didn’t concern me.  The benefit of you laying half naked outside in the yard or on the back deck was a point in my favor anyway.

I love taking you to a lake or the ocean though.  You looked like a mermaid in the water with how swiftly you moved.  I never did learn how to swim myself, aside from successfully demonstrating a doggy-paddle one time.  Being mocked mercilessly at every opportunity was one of your favorite activities.  Probably because I could often be a smug ass and you liked to remind me I’m not great at everything.

Right now I’m just sitting here and staring at you wilting in the heat.  Your clothes stripped down to your underwear, bra and panties.  A leg thrown up on the arm of the chair and a fan blowing hard at your midsection.  Even in this unbearable heat I can’t take my eyes off of you.  I’ll just sit here and enjoy the view until you throw something at me and tell me to stop staring.  Then I’ll suggest we go take a shower together, something to cool us off.  We’ll turn it to steam.