freedom

This is not about the Fourth of July or the fact that it's July and the flags go up with the temperature and the moderate dress code for the month revolves around 3 basic colors and triple the amount of skin.

This is about an anxious heart and early mornings and this is about the fact that my 12 year old brother sleeps in the same position on the couch until midnight every night, waiting up for my other brother whose curfew shouldn't be this late.

This is about Coldplay albums and the hype of rolled down windows 

because they really are all they crack up to be. 

If you love them like they deserve.

It's about the fact that my parents finally changed the garage code and I'm counting my spendings by the hours I worked and they want me to order bedding.

I put sunscreen on the kids today and felt too young to be worried about their noses and the fact that their shoes won't fit next summer and they might see Canada before I do.

It's not about the burns on my arms from the branches, but the playlist that pushed us through the canyon off the outskirts of the city that made sloping streets and metal carts feel like a European hometown.  

It's a pair of sunglasses 

the fact that long shorts feel more comfortable

and the pool is prettier in the rain.

It's the fact that I'm listening to Midnight by Coldplay just six minutes past twelve in the morning.

And the perfume I decided to use.

The painting my friends want photocopies of.

 That my jacket matches all my shorts.

It's a sunroof and bug spray on a clear night with a painted beach. 

And it's the fact that I'm facing a canyon and my phone doesn't want to come with me.

There's no service here but I don't need it.

All I need is good hands and a bottle of July with our names on the label.