Never Can Say Goodbye//October 35th, 2023

 I went for a walk this afternoon.

I suppose I may be somewhat known for my "Post-Halloween Depression Walks", during which I walk around the neighborhood, obviously after Halloween has passed, and basically search for signs of life. Decorations still on display, waiting for be noticed, accepted, in this world where they are suddenly no longer welcome after a short month of being revered.

Today I found a few. Some I've admired since October began, still going strong. Some new ones that seem to have appeared on the night of Halloween, just visiting for a moment. But of course I also found empty spaces, voids where Halloween once stood. 

And at one house, I saw an open storage shed, full of all of the decorations that had been on display, proudly lit, the last time I passed. I think, for some reason, this one hurt most of all.

Perhaps, as a child, I took my holiday decorating and celebration cues from Christmas. Christmas, on some level, is celebrated for at least the entire week, between December 25th and New Year's Day. The decorations always stayed up. The festivities, in some form or another, seemed to continue. And, for the most part, I grew up sort of living that rule with every holiday. I wasn't expected to take things down until at least a week had passed. And with Halloween, the pumpkins and scarecrows stayed. Even the ones with the carved out faces got turned around, to look more "fall". 

Halloween's end still felt abrupt, but never as abrupt as it does now. 

Even on the 28th of October, the day before I left for Sleepy Hollow, the trees suddenly began shedding their leaves as if they, too, felt the pressure to hastily undecorate. So many leaves were falling and colliding that it sounded like a rainstorm outside. I returned from my trip to mostly bare limbs and dead, brown leaves discarded all over the ground, like candy wrappers after the night of trick or treating. 

Sometimes I feel like the world truly stops on November 1st...even momentarily. 

As I walk past the remaining decorations, the pumpkins slowly rotting into less enthusiastic smiles, all I can do is wonder why they can't stay. Wonder, "What's the rush?" I think a lot about people who say they love Halloween, and wonder why we can't all just band together and fight seasonalism if it doesn't suit us. It makes me so sad, so empty.

Perhaps it's just me. I don't know that I've ever loved Halloween in a normal, simple way. It's just a part of me, quite possibly the biggest part, and, although I hold onto it year round, surround myself with it in every way that I can, I don't know if I can ever feel fully satisfied in a world that tries to tell me it's only okay for a short period of time. That rush to undecorate makes me feel so unwelcome in this world, like the pumpkin looking out at me today from behind the door of a storage shed.

I truly don't know how people say goodbye so quickly. How they move onto the next thing as if Halloween never happened.

Stay spooky, my friends.