“You were days at the fair”

My first thought on that fateful Monday morning, returning to classes after a much needed winter break, was "take me back to the day I went to the fair". I had the time of my life that day, running around like a toddler, hopping on every ride back to back until my girlfriend was sick (of me). Rides that spun from super high up and looped all the way back down, being the first to shoot my arms up on a roller coaster, even getting all giddy and excited while waiting in line. The day ending with a giant hotdog and a few loops on the Ferris wheel topped off this five star experience. Going home that night and closing my eyes just to still feel that lingering movement from all the rollercoasters on my body's weight.

To slightly detract from the topic at hand, I spent a few years pining for my now girlfriend. Nights spent pages deep in my notes app writing all kinds of hopelessly romantic poetry. For example, this posts namesake:

You were days at the fair,

Melting cotton candy in hand.

You were sweet drinks that left me hungover,

You were warm in a way that felt refreshing, like hot showers on cold mornings.

You were vanilla perfume melting on my sweated skin.

Seems like your average early high school, first homoerotic friendship in your queer youth kind of poem, and it would usually be something I would flinch while reading. Yet a few years later, my first date with that same poems muse, was at the fair (completely unplanned on my part as well). It’s been a year since that first date and we’ve tried to keep the tradition of going to the fair every time it comes to town during late winter.  And now that I see the fair left town, I yearn for the day that I visited back. Those bright ride lights, and their contrast with the nights sky hold a special place in my heart, and I will always get giddy when the time comes around.