Can't you see I'm trying?
Bah. SO tired. Tired, in my bones--even my hair feels tired. Is that even possible? I need to go home--but by home I don't mean Atlanta, I mean my own personal version of home--the safehaven of the people I love. Court, I'm so excited to see you, because at least for five days, I can feel like all parts of me are functioning together as a whole and not working against eachother in an elongated version of sabotage.
I read a friend's away message this evening, and it reminded me of a lot of old thoughts. I remember being younger, and feeling like the oddball out--because all I wanted was to crawl into the arms of somebody who cared about me and just stay there. It was the beginning of high school. I felt itchy in my own skin. Nothing felt right to me except things that shouldn't. All I wanted was somebody to sit with me, somebody who wouldn't mind if we leaned up against one another, somebody comfortable in their own skin--or comfortable with MY discomforts, in a way helping them to find their own comfort. I hugged everybody. When I was even younger, elementary-school age, I used to judge the quality and trustworthiness of my friends by their hugs. I never trusted anybody who didn't have the ability to take another person completely in their arms, no matter how long or short the moment. Small creature comforts. College kinda sucks that way--how often does anybody just comfort anybody else? As crazy as dear Meg can be, I'm fortunate to have her--because she, like me, seems to understand the benefits of just being in close contact with someone--even if that means just standing shoulder to shoulder brushing your teeth, or whacking one another across the stomach as we pass by in the clutter of our room.
I'm nineteen years old, and I'll never lose my perception on that...and I don't think I'll ever stop wanting to just curl up with closeness and...relax.
I leave for Houston tomorrow and Phoenix on Monday. Have a good night, ya'll...