Cry, cry, cry
I've been doing a lot of that in the past three weeks. I'd really appreciate a comment on this post, if you read it.
For the last three weeks, I've stayed with Sam at Bard. Bard classes started, and mine at Dartmouth haven't yet, so I've been with her. And I've been very, very emotional very, very often.
I don't know what happened last year. It went by really fast, much faster than usual. For Sam it was because, she says, it was very smooth -- no real big events happened to make landmarks. For me, I think it was because I really wanted the time to go by fast. But now I wonder if that wasn't a mistake, because of how emotional I've been over the last three weeks.
At some point in the last year I created a mental block for myself -- this block prevented me from remembering many of the truly wonderful times I had at Bard. I'm not sure when I created it, but I think it was at some point soon after I graduated. I didn't unpack much for that entire year -- I made a half-hearted attempt to put up one or two of my posters, but when they came down I just let them stay down. And despite staying at Bard for a time last year, the mental block remained -- perhaps because almost every one of my friends were still there. This year, though...things have been different.
I remember everything, very vividly. All the great times I've had with so many wonderful people. The times in my room. (Bolded because I still feel that way -- that it's mine. Sam tells me I've got to stop thinking that way.) Playing video games there with friends -- having Senia, Jess, Brian, Dave, and more over all playing Eternal Darkness. Kissing Sam after dinner, and she cautioning me time and time again to pull those curtains down over those massive windows. Walking her to dinner, every day, stopping at her dorm and waiting for her to come out, then coming back and kissing her at her door, walking back to my own dorm and waving the entire way. Playing Shadowrun with Ben and Senia and Rob in the common room. Dropping Sam off at the Vampire LARP with all my friends, then coming to pick her up and walking home when it ended -- or, occasionally, going out to Michael's Diner in Kingston after it was over with our group of 10+.
It's really vivid now, because almost everyone is gone. I miss everyone so terribly, and some things I couldn't do my first week here without crying -- like walking through the Village. (I can do that now, barely.) Going down Kappa Path -- that's the way we used to walk after Vampire every other Friday. Typing up this post is making me tear up. Sometimes I'd just get randomly emotional in Sam's room as I would replay something in my mind, from something that made me recall it -- one of Sam's One Piece posters, or one of the silly things that adorn her desk. I'd just randomly start crying.
I understand, academically, that it's not the place that matters, but the things that made that place important -- that is, the people. But not only does the place remain strong in the memories for me, but the people are gone as well and there's this vast emptiness. I keep wishing with all of my heart that I could just replay the years here, but I can't. So cry, cry, cry -- that's what I do. I don't want to forget about the past, but I remain stuck in it -- unable to move on and recognize that I have good times ahead of me in the future as well, times that can be as good as the times I've had here (but even though I recognize that, I find it difficult to believe).
For the last three weeks, I've stayed with Sam at Bard. Bard classes started, and mine at Dartmouth haven't yet, so I've been with her. And I've been very, very emotional very, very often.
I don't know what happened last year. It went by really fast, much faster than usual. For Sam it was because, she says, it was very smooth -- no real big events happened to make landmarks. For me, I think it was because I really wanted the time to go by fast. But now I wonder if that wasn't a mistake, because of how emotional I've been over the last three weeks.
At some point in the last year I created a mental block for myself -- this block prevented me from remembering many of the truly wonderful times I had at Bard. I'm not sure when I created it, but I think it was at some point soon after I graduated. I didn't unpack much for that entire year -- I made a half-hearted attempt to put up one or two of my posters, but when they came down I just let them stay down. And despite staying at Bard for a time last year, the mental block remained -- perhaps because almost every one of my friends were still there. This year, though...things have been different.
I remember everything, very vividly. All the great times I've had with so many wonderful people. The times in my room. (Bolded because I still feel that way -- that it's mine. Sam tells me I've got to stop thinking that way.) Playing video games there with friends -- having Senia, Jess, Brian, Dave, and more over all playing Eternal Darkness. Kissing Sam after dinner, and she cautioning me time and time again to pull those curtains down over those massive windows. Walking her to dinner, every day, stopping at her dorm and waiting for her to come out, then coming back and kissing her at her door, walking back to my own dorm and waving the entire way. Playing Shadowrun with Ben and Senia and Rob in the common room. Dropping Sam off at the Vampire LARP with all my friends, then coming to pick her up and walking home when it ended -- or, occasionally, going out to Michael's Diner in Kingston after it was over with our group of 10+.
It's really vivid now, because almost everyone is gone. I miss everyone so terribly, and some things I couldn't do my first week here without crying -- like walking through the Village. (I can do that now, barely.) Going down Kappa Path -- that's the way we used to walk after Vampire every other Friday. Typing up this post is making me tear up. Sometimes I'd just get randomly emotional in Sam's room as I would replay something in my mind, from something that made me recall it -- one of Sam's One Piece posters, or one of the silly things that adorn her desk. I'd just randomly start crying.
I understand, academically, that it's not the place that matters, but the things that made that place important -- that is, the people. But not only does the place remain strong in the memories for me, but the people are gone as well and there's this vast emptiness. I keep wishing with all of my heart that I could just replay the years here, but I can't. So cry, cry, cry -- that's what I do. I don't want to forget about the past, but I remain stuck in it -- unable to move on and recognize that I have good times ahead of me in the future as well, times that can be as good as the times I've had here (but even though I recognize that, I find it difficult to believe).