Oh, haven't done this in a while
Something feels off. Maybe it's just the mood I'm in, or maybe it's everything but I keep busy enough not to notice. All I know is that, right now, I am weighed down by the belief that there's something I'm supposed to be doing, or could be doing, and I'm not. I try to figure out whether or not I'm happy, but I'm also beginning to believe that happiness is the sort of thing you can't begin to judge until it's passed you by, one of those things you look back on and assume you had. Or maybe that's what you think when you're not happy.
Not that I'm unhappy. Not that happiness is all that matters. But I guess I just don't feel like I'm really being fulfilled anymore (when did I feel that way? Hmm...), and that worries me, as it's always worried me. It could be an end of the year thing, a "sophomore slump" thing, a "time is passing too quickly and I'm scared to death" thing. I've always been terrified of change, of what lies beyond, and the older I get the faster I move away from everything, the more I speed toward an uncertain future. I know enough now to know I'll be okay. There will be rough patches (this summer's potential isolation and fruitlessness, no longer living in a dorm come fall, JR in the winter) that stress me out, that leave me distressed and dismayed, and they too will crawl by. There will be pure, wonderful days that pass too quickly, as they always have.
I guess it boils down to dreams and expectations, loneliness and the fear of loss. What else is new?
But I should probably start writing again. At least trying to make some sense and order of my head. Let's start with a list:
1. I miss New York. Despite my incurable fear of loneliness, I can walk around it alone and feel like I'm in the right place at the right time in a way I can't explain. I still feel out of place, but in a belonging way. And I'm glad I'll be home for the summer, despite all my knowledge that I'll be miserable and I'll fight with mom and Jeff will disappoint and I'll have nothing to do all day and I'll go nuts and I'll miss Steve too much and I'll wonder what happened to all the friends I used to spend my summers with. In other words, I'm a fool.
2. As usual, I don't know what to do about NBN. I pride myself on not having burnt out yet, and I know I'll get a break during the summer and JR, and that I'll hate being uninvolved. But especially after Tom leaves, and with all the frustration I've had with the site, I'm just not sure how much longer I want to last, or what I want to do next.
3. I'm a little nervous about how little my career aspirations and the realities of the profession have in common. I have this sinking feeling that I won't really turn out to be a journalist after all, and I'm not sure I can contemplate the possibility of having no idea what to do with the rest of my life.
4. I'm running out of people I really value having in my life. And the ones that I have valued have left or are leaving.
5. Am I really supposed to be with Steve? And what am I actually asking myself when I repeat that question?
6. I hate time alone. It will probably do me some good.
7. I would really, really love to spend a good deal of time with old friends. Meeting up with high school friends is always this odd experience of recognizing how much time has passed, how many things have changed, and reconciling whatever new person I've become with the one they used to know. And there's always this little shuffling act, trying to remember how I acted with them and deciding which role to play now, and whether or not it's really a role. It's uncomfortable. But it brings me back to a sense of self that's been missing for years, reminds me of a me who embarasses me a little but who, in general, feels a lot more natural than I could ever have suspected.
8. I think one of the reasons I love Tom so much is that I feel timeless around him. As I just wrote to him in an e-mail: "The person I am around you is sort of the person I was in high school, sort of the person I am right now, sort of the person I'll be in ten years. You bring out the "me" in me, whatever it is, in a way that's purer and truer than when I am with almost anyone else. You make me feel like you've always known me, and not the uglier, real version I used to be, but the me that exists when I blur away the realities and focus on the version I always wished would be true. It's why, barring all sorts of psychotraumas, I can actually see us being friends for an uncomfortably long time. Because whoever I'm going to be, it's like she already exists around you."
9. It's sort of the way I used to feel around Lucy, which is a shame, because in retrospect my entire relationship with her feels extremely dated, the product of who we were in a specific time and place, not timeless at all. Which leaves me in the odd position of missing our friendship, resenting her, and recognizing that there's nothing to feel strongly about one way or another.
10. I'm probably going to end up a teacher, aren't I?
Not that I'm unhappy. Not that happiness is all that matters. But I guess I just don't feel like I'm really being fulfilled anymore (when did I feel that way? Hmm...), and that worries me, as it's always worried me. It could be an end of the year thing, a "sophomore slump" thing, a "time is passing too quickly and I'm scared to death" thing. I've always been terrified of change, of what lies beyond, and the older I get the faster I move away from everything, the more I speed toward an uncertain future. I know enough now to know I'll be okay. There will be rough patches (this summer's potential isolation and fruitlessness, no longer living in a dorm come fall, JR in the winter) that stress me out, that leave me distressed and dismayed, and they too will crawl by. There will be pure, wonderful days that pass too quickly, as they always have.
I guess it boils down to dreams and expectations, loneliness and the fear of loss. What else is new?
But I should probably start writing again. At least trying to make some sense and order of my head. Let's start with a list:
1. I miss New York. Despite my incurable fear of loneliness, I can walk around it alone and feel like I'm in the right place at the right time in a way I can't explain. I still feel out of place, but in a belonging way. And I'm glad I'll be home for the summer, despite all my knowledge that I'll be miserable and I'll fight with mom and Jeff will disappoint and I'll have nothing to do all day and I'll go nuts and I'll miss Steve too much and I'll wonder what happened to all the friends I used to spend my summers with. In other words, I'm a fool.
2. As usual, I don't know what to do about NBN. I pride myself on not having burnt out yet, and I know I'll get a break during the summer and JR, and that I'll hate being uninvolved. But especially after Tom leaves, and with all the frustration I've had with the site, I'm just not sure how much longer I want to last, or what I want to do next.
3. I'm a little nervous about how little my career aspirations and the realities of the profession have in common. I have this sinking feeling that I won't really turn out to be a journalist after all, and I'm not sure I can contemplate the possibility of having no idea what to do with the rest of my life.
4. I'm running out of people I really value having in my life. And the ones that I have valued have left or are leaving.
5. Am I really supposed to be with Steve? And what am I actually asking myself when I repeat that question?
6. I hate time alone. It will probably do me some good.
7. I would really, really love to spend a good deal of time with old friends. Meeting up with high school friends is always this odd experience of recognizing how much time has passed, how many things have changed, and reconciling whatever new person I've become with the one they used to know. And there's always this little shuffling act, trying to remember how I acted with them and deciding which role to play now, and whether or not it's really a role. It's uncomfortable. But it brings me back to a sense of self that's been missing for years, reminds me of a me who embarasses me a little but who, in general, feels a lot more natural than I could ever have suspected.
8. I think one of the reasons I love Tom so much is that I feel timeless around him. As I just wrote to him in an e-mail: "The person I am around you is sort of the person I was in high school, sort of the person I am right now, sort of the person I'll be in ten years. You bring out the "me" in me, whatever it is, in a way that's purer and truer than when I am with almost anyone else. You make me feel like you've always known me, and not the uglier, real version I used to be, but the me that exists when I blur away the realities and focus on the version I always wished would be true. It's why, barring all sorts of psychotraumas, I can actually see us being friends for an uncomfortably long time. Because whoever I'm going to be, it's like she already exists around you."
9. It's sort of the way I used to feel around Lucy, which is a shame, because in retrospect my entire relationship with her feels extremely dated, the product of who we were in a specific time and place, not timeless at all. Which leaves me in the odd position of missing our friendship, resenting her, and recognizing that there's nothing to feel strongly about one way or another.
10. I'm probably going to end up a teacher, aren't I?