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"As I wrote a few months ago, my summer started with an ending. Now, it&amp;amp;#8217;s ended with another ending, and I wanted to share that with you. The most effective way, I realized, was to compare our relationship to a sunburn. Read on: Have you ever experienced this or thought of love in these terms? Falling in love with you was like going to the beach. Just us, together in the sun. It was a vacation, someplace otherworldly. An escape. Hazy and hot and surreal. Ephemeral. Then gone. I wake up the next morning, groggy, and decide, &amp;amp;#8220;It was all a dream.&amp;amp;#8221; Until I feel it pulsating on my skin: a sunburn, challenging, incredulous: &amp;amp;#8220;Or was it?&amp;amp;#8221; Everything that was once mundane reverberates with memory and breathes with meaning. When the water hits my back in the shower. When I pull my shirt down past my neck. When my shoulders settle into the car seat. I feel you, stinging. It&amp;amp;#8217;s a constant and inescapable reminder of what briefly was and what now isn&amp;amp;#8217;t. I basked in your warmth, eyes closed, tranquil. And didn&amp;amp;#8217;t consider the consequences until it was too late. It&amp;amp;#8217;s deep red, for love and for pain and for passion, the intersection of the two. It&amp;amp;#8217;s pain from pleasure, inextricable. It&amp;amp;#8217;s the excruciating echo of something once beautiful, something I can&amp;amp;#8217;t truly forget or regret. Torment is at the mercy of time. August is now September, and I take that same shower, put on that same shirt, sit in that same car. It doesn&amp;amp;#8217;t hurt so badly. Yet, somewhere beneath the sands of our beach, beneath layers of flesh, that sting lingers and lives. The girl is like a sunburn. I would like to say she&amp;amp;#8217;s like a sunburn. The song is called &amp;amp;#8220;Never Let You Go.&amp;amp;#8221; But much like the fleeting summer, I don&amp;amp;#8217;t have a choice. Looking for more late-summer summery reading? Check out things to do with your summer fling before it&amp;amp;#8217;s too late, a midsummer day&amp;amp;#8217;s dream, or why I ended my summer fling before it began. Credit: Getty Images"^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/blogs/smitten/2013/09/summer-is-ending-but-your-love>