There's something about June that always messes me up, every year. I could point out the things that have happened in June's past that have been such powerful/jarring/miserable moments that it's almost like something in the air triggers this muscle memory. I never expect it but without fail as May fades away I find myself more prone to frustrated tears and falling down memory lane k-holes. It triggers an impulse to ruminate on the past, and especially now that I'm not in LA for the first summer of my life, has brought on a tangible homesickness. I'll admit to being overly romantic & melancholic a lot of the time, but June amplifies it all. It's even more frustrating because this undercurrent of ennui is below the surface of my first summer in Chicago! I can go outside with no sweater and not be cold for the first time since I moved here, and so far everyone has been right--Chicago in the summer is magic. But just like the random thunder storms that keep drenching me when I least expect it, my June Gloom keeps flaring up and punching me in the face.
Nothing to do with this existential dread but close my eyes and wait for July.