forever or a day.
i'm in the bay area, limbo land, for today and tomorrow morning. left yosemite yesterday. it was vastly upsetting. in our grand gesture, lizzie and i jumped off elephant rock before we left. it's my third jump, but the first jump where i have not screamed in fear or yelled in false boldness. i jumped without a sound and watched the water rushing towards me for what seemed like seconds but surely wasn't more than 1 or 2. the image of the water rushing towards me replays in my head. silent. imminent.
this summer was not so adventuresome as i had expected, hoped, planned. i didn't backpack once. i climbed 4 times. i hiked not even every weekend. i worked a lot. i'm not sure working was worth it. 60 hour weeks of a job you hate. is. hell.
but i met the boy. ted. a slow start, we almost missed, but somehow we came close enough to be sucked into each others gravity. orbit. something. my time was mostly spent working and spending time with the most wonderful dork i know.
our schedules were lame. he worked at 8 am, i worked til 11 pm, so we got all of 9 sleepy hours minus travel time to see each other. different weekends, too.
it's funny how well you can come to know someone just from sleeping by their side every night. at the same time. one month. how little we've scratched the surface. on the day before i left, it bubbled out, no longer containable, the words i love you fell out of my mouth, then his mouth and it tied me even tighter into whatever this is.
i'm torn between taking a semester off of school to stay in yosemite, and continuing with school and friends and familiarity. leases and classes and plans....
to the romantics in you, the spontaneous, the wild, the free, you all tell me there is no choice and that part of me knows it. how can you choose to walk away from love to nothing better, only easier?
to the fear in me. the societal guidelines, the relational failures, the past that creeps up, i just want to run away and being back in humboldt will make it easy. it's not hard to run away when you're already away.
in a move of stupidity, perhaps, human nature of the modern day, i happened upon his myspace, and ted being the open, lovely writer he is, i read excerpts from his last 2 years. heartbreak, it breaks my heart, i dont know more because it is pain for him or because i fear he must still love her?
how can i even talk on the phone about things like that? a conversation of magnitude requires touching and eye contact and breaks for hugs to lose yourself for a second.
he's 8 years older than me, too, and i feel intimidated by his excess of experience. i don't know that i've even ever loved before. i don't know what i want from life. but when i'm near him it doesn't occur to me that we're different.
how to put the past behind? i suppose we all have pasts... but i am not holding on to any former loves...
such insecurity and fear... i've never even been in a relationship for more than a month.
if i return to yosemite it will be so many new and terrifying things.
if i don't i think it'll kill a part of me. not just heartbreak, but knowing that fear is a stronger force in me than love. that i chose comfort over opportunity.
i don't know if i'm the strong spontaneous person, or the one who just falls into whatever life suggests is easy.
conflict.
i want to talk to my mommy.
this summer was not so adventuresome as i had expected, hoped, planned. i didn't backpack once. i climbed 4 times. i hiked not even every weekend. i worked a lot. i'm not sure working was worth it. 60 hour weeks of a job you hate. is. hell.
but i met the boy. ted. a slow start, we almost missed, but somehow we came close enough to be sucked into each others gravity. orbit. something. my time was mostly spent working and spending time with the most wonderful dork i know.
our schedules were lame. he worked at 8 am, i worked til 11 pm, so we got all of 9 sleepy hours minus travel time to see each other. different weekends, too.
it's funny how well you can come to know someone just from sleeping by their side every night. at the same time. one month. how little we've scratched the surface. on the day before i left, it bubbled out, no longer containable, the words i love you fell out of my mouth, then his mouth and it tied me even tighter into whatever this is.
i'm torn between taking a semester off of school to stay in yosemite, and continuing with school and friends and familiarity. leases and classes and plans....
to the romantics in you, the spontaneous, the wild, the free, you all tell me there is no choice and that part of me knows it. how can you choose to walk away from love to nothing better, only easier?
to the fear in me. the societal guidelines, the relational failures, the past that creeps up, i just want to run away and being back in humboldt will make it easy. it's not hard to run away when you're already away.
in a move of stupidity, perhaps, human nature of the modern day, i happened upon his myspace, and ted being the open, lovely writer he is, i read excerpts from his last 2 years. heartbreak, it breaks my heart, i dont know more because it is pain for him or because i fear he must still love her?
how can i even talk on the phone about things like that? a conversation of magnitude requires touching and eye contact and breaks for hugs to lose yourself for a second.
he's 8 years older than me, too, and i feel intimidated by his excess of experience. i don't know that i've even ever loved before. i don't know what i want from life. but when i'm near him it doesn't occur to me that we're different.
how to put the past behind? i suppose we all have pasts... but i am not holding on to any former loves...
such insecurity and fear... i've never even been in a relationship for more than a month.
if i return to yosemite it will be so many new and terrifying things.
if i don't i think it'll kill a part of me. not just heartbreak, but knowing that fear is a stronger force in me than love. that i chose comfort over opportunity.
i don't know if i'm the strong spontaneous person, or the one who just falls into whatever life suggests is easy.
conflict.
i want to talk to my mommy.