 Dear October, you snuck in early this year. In the middle of September, I felt your chill icing around the edges of my heart. While everyone around me celebrates the return of scarves and pumpkin spice lattes, I began to crawl into myself. I wish I could participate in their joy. The playful Halloween decorations that have begun to adorn my neighborhood frightened me with their monstrous faces. In October, I wish we could reconcile. I wish that I didn't know you as a thing of my nightmares. Your air is a weapon against me. If I step outside and breathe it in, my lungs are punctured with the knives of so many memories. I wish I could disassociate myself from them. Your crisp, beautiful blue skies exist only to remind me of the days I learned nothing. Nothing would ever feel safe again. As my neighbors celebrate the season's change, I wrap myself with the small comfort of knowing that this month must end soon. Maybe one day I will greet you with open arms. Maybe one day I too will gleefully revel in October's call for sweaters and cozy hats. Maybe one day you won't simply serve as a clear reminder of who I'll never be again. Of all I've lost. For today, I cling to the knowledge that you are but a moment of my year. You must pass. And I will then breathe again with ease.