My life follows a pattern. Every January things start anew, every March I learn something important, and every August the biggest things change. Every year I try to write about it, to see if I can find some reason why it's so predictable. No answer really ever makes much sense. It's in August when things are gained, it's in August when things are lost, and it's in August when I change in the deepest and most profound ways. I can never pass through it without being different when it's all over.
I don't know what to expect this time, not that I can ever really prepare myself for it anyway. The best that I can do is be ready to bleed, to love, to be broken, to be found, and to gain and shed my burdens. To be taken from everything I know, to lose someone I care about, to enter into a promise, and to find a new place for myself. I come into it with the knowledge of how it always came in the years before. Knowing that things will be different, because it is impossible for them to stay the same.
This year I greet August with a weary and broken smile, with unresolved issues, and a tangled mess of circumstances. But I also come with the hope that some years August can be as generous as it can be greedy, hoping that it may grant me some sense of peace and acceptance. I want to leave August with the strength to carry me through into another year, so that I can begin the cycle of change once again. But for now I will go quietly, into the loudest memories of things loved and broken in August.