august and everything after

i have this great feeling flowing through my veins. its that same feeling i get when i see a room clad in distressed leather furniture and 25 years worth of stolen library books. when i think of my dad's parents through the perspective of his stories. its a comfort, a release of oxytocin that i so wish to sustain but at the same time dread knowing it cannot be sustained. its the same feeling i get when i see pictures of people in love looking at each other when they think no one's looking. when listening to august and everything after. the feeling i got as a child when driving back from long island at night, new york city talk radio in the background, the window cracked to keep my dad awake, being half asleep listening to the rhythmic bumps of the tires hitting the throg's neck bridge. 

god i love this feeling.