packed

I'm almost packed and ready to go after a truly meaningful time at home. Let's just say... I laughed til my stomach hurt at least twice everyday, cried everyday, and managed to do some pretty cool things on the way. I'm thinking about taking this mac to college perk to get the work I never finished, started (oops) and completed. As much as I have 9 hours on planes... I haven't slept much at ALL, so working then would be unreliable. But these are all surface things... the kind of "packed" weekend I'm talking about sort of goes beyond the time I just spent here... it's because of this time (and all the time before it leading til now) that my heart just feels so packed tight full of all kinds of love. Love that I don't know what to do with (or how to do without) when my body flies further and further away. Love that I don't know how to walk away from... but I guess I do know, since I've done it once already. And now it should be easier. Of course the walking away is temporary, thank god, haha, but okay... let me do a little awkward blog confession...

When I got really down at school I started to get this overwhelming feeling that I was going to die in the next few months, and it freaked me out a little bit... it freaked me out a lot. I eventually forgot what that feeling was like, but let me explain what feeling like you might die really soon was like: it's sort of sophocating, makes you want life so bad it hurts, makes you want to fall in love, and do everything meaningful under the sun (or the rain!), it also made me so sad for my friends and family-- wanting to see them, knowing how painful it would be if something did happen to me, made me want to do everything in my power to prevent myself from this omen that just sort of happened one day, but what's there to prevent, when there's nothing to know about the time and place it will happen. so i convinced myself i was just missing home and having a strange side effect of grieving, and eventually the feeling went away. it's weird to talk about that because no one wants to actually consider it being true (including myself). and really whats there to do about it? besides live.


so live, i did, after my successful flight home (during the flight i thought nothing about dying... really haven't thought about that feeling since it was so strong). and here i lived, rarely feeling out of place, spending quality time with people, not sleeping, diving through puddles in the rain/mud, playing guitar for lots of people packed in little dorm rooms, cuddling, drinking chai, eating italian food and chocolate truffles, sitting outside on lawn chairs on the new brick patio...

and i'll live some more at school, a lot more, with the many more hours available to build new friendships, play guitar for new ears, basque in west-coast rain for all 6 months of it, take road trips, be open with people, say what i mean, cry, and laugh til my stomach hurts.

it was good to be home. i'm SO thankful for my family and best friends. and i'm thankful for the wonderful new home happening with me on the west coast. sometimes i get scared, that i'll get too preoccupied with the things that don't matter and miss out on living the best kind of life. at home i just forget to do the things that don't matter because i'm so absorbed in the importance of every second of my life. so i'm going to finish packing my clothes, and let go of MD for a few months. MD is sort of like a dog, that i've kept on a leash, and i just need to trust that the base i created isn't going to wonder off too far without me... but it will change, and so will i.


breathe. okay. nothing to do but live. be strong. be honest. be.