the only consolations i have about this long distance relationship right now are that i haven’t shaved my legs in a month and i just ate an enormous bar of chocolate and didn’t have to share it with anyone
in someone else’s house, as your hosts stand politely in the shadows. you thank them as you leave.
at the train station, where the conductor smiles and says yes, he’ll take a picture.
in the airport with his best friend, so no tears allowed.
in the airport again, but this time you’re the one going through security and there’s no way to hold it back. the man in the elevator turns to the other direction.
in the airport before, at the beginning. these tears are nervous tears; bittersweet.
in the hostel, while a stranger sleeps on the couch next to you.
in your neighborhood, down the street from your house. the rain is just starting to fall and this is the first time.
at the bus station, you feel yourself melting into a puddle, but then you pick yourself up drive home alone.
at least every goodbye has a hello: friends squealing at the airport or a cautious hug and quick kiss or “what was the movie on the flight? how was the food?” or even a nervous introduction, that just needed time to become something special.
If it is Sunday or Monday and I am just gazing off at nothing with squinty eyes, I am either writing the poem due on Tuesday in my head or trying to remember what I forgot to do/bring/take/eat/give/buy etc.
everyone is different, which makes every situation different. i will stop comparing myself to other people and instead just go with the flow for a little bit. see what happens. i hope that the future brings good things, but i’m just going to live for right now.
i know that no one really cares about little posts like this (especially ones so riddled with cliches), but it’s nice to get some things out of the internal circuit.
how strange are human emotions? the first two weeks of last december, for example, (and during most any other part of my life) i would’ve been so perfectly pleased to have time to sit in my room by myself and read a book, just for fun, with nothing else to do. but somehow, here and now, everything is heart wrenching and to sit here and read this book, just for fun, is sad and lonely and there are tears running down my face.
i don’t want to be so dependent on other people, because no matter what, all you ever really have is yourself. it’s okay to be alone! it’s nice, it’s necessary. it’s okay to just relax and read a book. it’s okay to think about things you have to look forward to, but you need enjoy the present too, because life is precious. but please, tell me, if i keep repeating these things to myself, when will they finally sink in? when will this anxiety stop eating away at my stomach, so i can finally be myself again?
for heaven’s sake i used to pride myself on my love of eating lunch alone! now, suddenly, give me a table and a salad and no company at all and i am destitute; the last person alive on earth.
i’m sitting in my room in groningen at 4 in the morning. i’ve passed the halfway point of my time here and i feel different. i remember getting on the plane on december 19th and feeling terrified and gloriously independent all at once. i wrote a “journal entry” in a notebook and then tore it up once my plane landed—i’m not a writer. i got to johannesburg and it wasn’t what i expected, but it made me sad. i don’t think my family belongs there. i didn’t want to leave them there, and now that i’m gone, i don’t want to go back.
and then i came to groningen. the first day was so scary and overwhelming and i cried in my room by myself (i’ll admit it now) and wondered why i decided to come here all alone. but i cried every day for the first week of elementary, middle, and high school, and eventually i figured out that nonsense, didn’t i? so i put on a brave face and went downstairs and talked to people who i thought i had nothing in common with. now three months later, everything is different and we’ve all learned to love each other, but most of all i think that i’m different. i can’t explain it, but this was the right thing for me to do. i feel so at home in this city, which took me into its arms and gave me what i needed—a fresh start.
“by not expressing anything human, by complete self-negation, a work of art emerges which is a monument to beauty: far transcending everything human and yet extremely human in its profundity and generality!”—
i’m bad at having emotions and even worse at expressing them and i know we need to talk but i don’t know how to bring it up, so i wish you would do all the work (like for everything else; when you bring me breakfast, when you fix my bike, can’t this be the same?). what we have here isn’t real life (real life for me is the library, lenoir, webassign, cary, my friends my friends my friends who i love above everything, except for my family) (real life isn’t even my family anymore—where did they go?), so tell me, what will happen when real life wraps its sweet arms around us once more? i’m scared of becoming the person that i thought i would never be. i don’t know what to think but i think we should talk.
“Only hang around people that are positive and make you feel good. Anybody who doesn’t make you feel good, kick them to the curb, and the earlier you start in your life the better. The minute anybody makes you feel weird and non included or not supported, you know, either beat it or tell them to beat it.”—Amy Poehler (via adorablyvulgar)
“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and to see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”—Henry David Thoreau, Walden
is talking to people. and listening to their stories and why they are studying what they are studying and where they live at home and how they miss their parents and don’t know how to cook for themselves (just like you) and what brought them to this strange, cold place with delicious stroopwafels (just like you).