into the wild
I love this uncertain, imperfect life of mine and everyone in it. I do.
Sometimes I forget and get caught up in the negative. It's easy. When you let your deepest thoughts collect like cobwebs in the corners of your mind, ensnaring emotions like spindled prey, you're bound to get caught. Emotion bubbling and spilling out when you least expect it like dish soap displaced in a dishwasher.
And that's what happened when Kevin left for Vegas and I was confronted with all the undercurrents of the past few months.
Security. Every single thing that has bothered me deeply lately has had something to do with a loss of security. Having no home, family moving away, losing friends, graduating soon, losing insurance, not having a job, etc. etc.
"Is there anything in my life that is certain?" I asked Kevin on his way to Chesterton, realizing the answer as I asked it. "Any ONE thing?"
And Kevin, sweet Kevin who can always find sunshine on a cloudy day, was at a loss for words. After stumbling over words, he finally offered "I would like to say me." But I then pointed out that we are only dating, and that's not a sure thing (even if it may feel like it).
It's no wonder I've felt as lost as I have.
Then Kevin said although every single thing in my life is uncertain, I do have the comfort of being my own best friend. Which made me realize--I haven't been my best friend.
When I moved to Fort Wayne my 7th grade year I had trouble adjusting. I was the new girl, and everyone had their own clicks already. I spent a lot of time alone or with my sister just hoping that things would get better. But I had my bouts of loneliness, and to quelm them I would console myself with the fact that I was my own best friend. I didn't need them, I told myself. I have an exciting imagination and can have fun by myself, I knew---and there was a liberation in that. It was at that point that I did make friends.
It happened again when I was in high school and I was grounded for nearly two years straight. I spent most of my time alone in my room, creating art or writing. Again I dealt with depression, mostly due to my situation and the war between my mother and father (a war still being fought). Once I got a car I would voluntarily go places by myself--shopping, the movies, on walks---and I enjoyed the solitude. I knew who I was and I loved who I was.
But for some reason, since then I've lost myself as a best friend. I suppose when I got real best friends, boyfriends, I didn't need myself anymore. I know myself, but I don't want to spend time with myself.
So, I spent the past week and a half mostly by myself, doing what I've loved doing. I went to Death Cab for Cutie in Indianapolis and walked around White River State Park, I people-watched at the colorful Indy Pride Festival. At home I watched the old musicals I loved and collaged, or went for long walks or sunbathed with romances in hand. I cleaned, I wrote, I went through old memorabilia, I became nostalgic and reminisced about the times I loved. And I became better friends with myself again.
It's Kevin's birthday and he's coming back tonight, finally. We have a day or so and then I'm leaving with Brenda, Nick, and Alexis to see my mom in Virginia for a week. The kids becoming adults and taking a road trip, strange. I love my family, as mixed up as we all are, and I'm glad to be taking a final trip.
Nick has Glaucoma. I've been praying for him.
In fact, in the midst of my lack of security, my faith is becoming stronger each day. God is another secure thing in my life, and I finally am ready to embrace that.
Sometimes I forget and get caught up in the negative. It's easy. When you let your deepest thoughts collect like cobwebs in the corners of your mind, ensnaring emotions like spindled prey, you're bound to get caught. Emotion bubbling and spilling out when you least expect it like dish soap displaced in a dishwasher.
And that's what happened when Kevin left for Vegas and I was confronted with all the undercurrents of the past few months.
Security. Every single thing that has bothered me deeply lately has had something to do with a loss of security. Having no home, family moving away, losing friends, graduating soon, losing insurance, not having a job, etc. etc.
"Is there anything in my life that is certain?" I asked Kevin on his way to Chesterton, realizing the answer as I asked it. "Any ONE thing?"
And Kevin, sweet Kevin who can always find sunshine on a cloudy day, was at a loss for words. After stumbling over words, he finally offered "I would like to say me." But I then pointed out that we are only dating, and that's not a sure thing (even if it may feel like it).
It's no wonder I've felt as lost as I have.
Then Kevin said although every single thing in my life is uncertain, I do have the comfort of being my own best friend. Which made me realize--I haven't been my best friend.
When I moved to Fort Wayne my 7th grade year I had trouble adjusting. I was the new girl, and everyone had their own clicks already. I spent a lot of time alone or with my sister just hoping that things would get better. But I had my bouts of loneliness, and to quelm them I would console myself with the fact that I was my own best friend. I didn't need them, I told myself. I have an exciting imagination and can have fun by myself, I knew---and there was a liberation in that. It was at that point that I did make friends.
It happened again when I was in high school and I was grounded for nearly two years straight. I spent most of my time alone in my room, creating art or writing. Again I dealt with depression, mostly due to my situation and the war between my mother and father (a war still being fought). Once I got a car I would voluntarily go places by myself--shopping, the movies, on walks---and I enjoyed the solitude. I knew who I was and I loved who I was.
But for some reason, since then I've lost myself as a best friend. I suppose when I got real best friends, boyfriends, I didn't need myself anymore. I know myself, but I don't want to spend time with myself.
So, I spent the past week and a half mostly by myself, doing what I've loved doing. I went to Death Cab for Cutie in Indianapolis and walked around White River State Park, I people-watched at the colorful Indy Pride Festival. At home I watched the old musicals I loved and collaged, or went for long walks or sunbathed with romances in hand. I cleaned, I wrote, I went through old memorabilia, I became nostalgic and reminisced about the times I loved. And I became better friends with myself again.
It's Kevin's birthday and he's coming back tonight, finally. We have a day or so and then I'm leaving with Brenda, Nick, and Alexis to see my mom in Virginia for a week. The kids becoming adults and taking a road trip, strange. I love my family, as mixed up as we all are, and I'm glad to be taking a final trip.
Nick has Glaucoma. I've been praying for him.
In fact, in the midst of my lack of security, my faith is becoming stronger each day. God is another secure thing in my life, and I finally am ready to embrace that.