It's not that I don't know where I am. It's not even that I don't know who I am. It's not that I'd rather be in Yellowstone than here. It's not that I'm unhappy. So, what is it? It's that... this isn't what I expected.
I thought I'd be doing things, finding passion and moving forward. Not secretly looking at his facebook feeling more heartbroken than I'll ever allow myself to admit. Not being so entirely unmotivated. Not spending so much time just sitting on the couch, just laying in bed. Alone. Thinking rather than talking. Sleeping rather than writing. I know where I am, and, while I'm happy here, I want to go somewhere else. I'm just not making any progress towards getting there, because I have no clue where there is.
I never thought the info center would be a problem, but it is.
I never thought I'd still need someone to care about me so badly, but I do.
I thought I'd be strong, confident, and happy, but I'm not.
This isn't depression, this isn't psychosis, this isn't an existential crisis.
Is this, life?
"I leave the party early, at least with no regrets... yeah, this is as good as it gets."
I refuse to believe that. I'll keep holding on to hope, clutching retardedly to that last glimmer of idealism that still burns inside. Because, when that's gone, what's left? You've got to believe that things can get better.
The only thing that always stays the same, is that everything always changes.
I've stopped dreaming about foxes, and now, I kind of miss them.
I need to pick myself up by the seat of my pants, dust myself off and hold my head high.
(Fake it 'til you make it.)
I need to write a paper and study for tests.
I can't read more than a few pages at a time in Desert Solitaire. It's because I can't have the book end, I can't have his season in Arches end. I can't read about the park staying the same, waiting for him to return despite his changes.
I think I'm going to read some Harry Potter (you're shocked, I know.)
There's nothing I wouldn't give right now, to be camping in the trees, sitting in front of a fire, with my tent and the river behind me, the stars and the moon above me.
I need a hug.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Here we are
This feels like home. This feels like the place I want to be at least 95% of the time. However, when I turn off my lights to fall asleep and his arms aren't around me, I want to be back in Canyon. Sometimes, as the sunsets, I would give anything to be anywhere in the Park. Sometimes, I still look at Canyon on the map on my wall and want to go home. But most of the time, being here is so right. Somehow, as soon as I walked into this house, I knew it would be home.
I am ready for life. I went to Yellowstone, and just like I expected, I found myself. There was a piece of me out in Hayden Valley, a piece of me at Artist Point looking at the falls, a piece on Dunraven Pass headed to Tower, a piece out in Lamar Valley. And they all came together and I remembered who I am. I recognized and loved my soul that got so lost at the end of last year. And, better yet, I brought myself home with me. I might have run away to Yellowstone, but in running away, I stopped waiting for someone to find me, I stopped waiting for a miracle, I got out and I got myself out of the forest; found myself.
I still don't know where I'm going, but that's alright, because I know where I am, and I know where I've been. I've got a compass and might even have access to a map.
I don't know where I'm going, but I'm sure as hell not lost. I know the general direction, and I know some possible end points.
I'm happy; I still have shit to work through, but I can do it. "it is not the dark we fear, but the unknown." I'm no longer going to wait for someone else to turn the light on for me; I'm not even going to turn the light on myself... I am going to be the fucking light. I'm ready to shine, to be somebody. I know what is important to me, and I'm going to be important.
Goodbye summer, I'm ready for my real life to begin.
I am ready for life. I went to Yellowstone, and just like I expected, I found myself. There was a piece of me out in Hayden Valley, a piece of me at Artist Point looking at the falls, a piece on Dunraven Pass headed to Tower, a piece out in Lamar Valley. And they all came together and I remembered who I am. I recognized and loved my soul that got so lost at the end of last year. And, better yet, I brought myself home with me. I might have run away to Yellowstone, but in running away, I stopped waiting for someone to find me, I stopped waiting for a miracle, I got out and I got myself out of the forest; found myself.
I still don't know where I'm going, but that's alright, because I know where I am, and I know where I've been. I've got a compass and might even have access to a map.
I don't know where I'm going, but I'm sure as hell not lost. I know the general direction, and I know some possible end points.
I'm happy; I still have shit to work through, but I can do it. "it is not the dark we fear, but the unknown." I'm no longer going to wait for someone else to turn the light on for me; I'm not even going to turn the light on myself... I am going to be the fucking light. I'm ready to shine, to be somebody. I know what is important to me, and I'm going to be important.
Goodbye summer, I'm ready for my real life to begin.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
with my feet on the dash
Tell me what to do, because I just don’t know anymore. Take me away from here and let me sit on a rock at the edge of the McKenzie. Let the flow of that water carry away my troubles. Tell me to trust myself. Hold me until it doesn’t hurt anymore. Build a fire to bring light to chase away the demons of the dark. “It is the unknown we fear.” So spread some knowledge, being scared has never suited me much.
I’ve been thinking about the difference between being lost and being found. Because I haven’t been hiding from the past, I know exactly where I’ve come from, and I’m pretty sure I know where I am now. However, it’s the where I’m going, the place I want to be next, that I’m unsure of. So, am I lost? I want to say no, because I know my current location, but what good does knowing where I am do me if I don’t know how to get anywhere else, other than where I’ve been, but that’s not the right direction. I’m pretty sure that makes me lost.
Maybe that’s why I want to go back to Yellowstone so badly. Or at least, that’s the deeper motivator behind all the surface level desires. Because I can retrace that path out of here. But then what? Then I’m just following my footsteps back and forth like a puppet dancing to times ever changing beat. That’s why I can’t go act on the desire to call them and try for a job. That’s why I’m here, because the only direction to move is forward. But sometimes, you’ve got to run as fast as you can just to stay where you are. When you struggle against quicksand you just sink faster. Maybe I need to relax and float back to the top.
Two years ago today I never, ever would have imagined that I’d be who I am today. Never would have imagined that I’d be doing what I’m doing or have done a lot of what I’ve done. What will I think two years from now? Time continues to rush past, slapping against me like sand in the wind on the coast. I continue to grow and change and improve and remember and dream.
Recently, I’ve spent a lot of time dreaming.
I’ve been thinking about the difference between being lost and being found. Because I haven’t been hiding from the past, I know exactly where I’ve come from, and I’m pretty sure I know where I am now. However, it’s the where I’m going, the place I want to be next, that I’m unsure of. So, am I lost? I want to say no, because I know my current location, but what good does knowing where I am do me if I don’t know how to get anywhere else, other than where I’ve been, but that’s not the right direction. I’m pretty sure that makes me lost.
Maybe that’s why I want to go back to Yellowstone so badly. Or at least, that’s the deeper motivator behind all the surface level desires. Because I can retrace that path out of here. But then what? Then I’m just following my footsteps back and forth like a puppet dancing to times ever changing beat. That’s why I can’t go act on the desire to call them and try for a job. That’s why I’m here, because the only direction to move is forward. But sometimes, you’ve got to run as fast as you can just to stay where you are. When you struggle against quicksand you just sink faster. Maybe I need to relax and float back to the top.
Two years ago today I never, ever would have imagined that I’d be who I am today. Never would have imagined that I’d be doing what I’m doing or have done a lot of what I’ve done. What will I think two years from now? Time continues to rush past, slapping against me like sand in the wind on the coast. I continue to grow and change and improve and remember and dream.
Recently, I’ve spent a lot of time dreaming.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
look at the mountains we have climbed
Sometimes you know exactly where you’re starting, and exactly where you’re going to end up. You have a map that shows you how to get there, but still, the journey is nothing like you could have imagined. What about when you don’t know where you are, don’t know how you’ll get there, don’t even know where there is? Not all who wander are lost, but not all who are lost wander. I think I might be lost, but I’m standing perfectly still. Sometimes it’s as if I’m waiting for something to fall down upon me and tell me what to do and where to go. But my life has never been a fairytale and miracles don’t just rain down, pick you up and dust you off. There is no certainty in my life right now “I think I might be lost,” a statement with about as much noncommittal sentiment as there is moldy food in my fridge. I know that uncertainty is what youth, hell, what life, is all about, but there’s not even any certainty in my uncertainty. A year ago, I knew with certainty that my upcoming four months were totally uncertain. Now, I’m just writing certain, certainty and uncertainty over and over again.
Sometimes I think of the park and almost cry. One thing I know is this: I’ve got the Yellowstone-Blues. The feeling of absolute despair that I won’t be there and the constant question of what I’m supposed to do instead. I look at the map on my wall and look at Canyon Village and wonder when if I’ll ever get to go home again. I made this decision and maybe I’m regretting it, but I know if it was the wrong one, I wouldn’t have made it. My gut told me not to go back and I’ve got to trust that. It’d be easier if I had any form of plan though. Maybe the blue sky wouldn’t break my heart so completely if I had anything to hold on to, had anything to be excited and scared about. At times like this, I want to call HR at Xanterra and beg and plead them to give me a job and let me come home. I want to call my mom and tell her she needs to pay my rent because I need to go back into that park and find myself. I think I’m there somewhere, standing on a trail or in the middle of Hayden Valley waiting to be found.
Sometimes at night I can’t when I can’t sleep my mind wanders back into memories. I imagine that I’m in my sleeping bag, falling asleep in my tent smelling like campfire and listening to the Ocean or The McKenzie. I imagine that you’ve hugged me goodnight and told me that you love me. I imagine that there’s a dog lying on my legs. I imagine that I’m in my room in Yellowstone, with the fan blowing and music playing softly. Essentially, I try and trick myself into thinking I’m almost anywhere but here. But, I know that I’m supposed to be here. Even when things go wrong, it’s still right. The campus is still beautiful; there are still professors who believe in me, still a boss who sees my bright future, still friends who care about me, still coworkers who respect me. Even when I want to run away so bad that it physically hurts, I know this is where I belong. Even when I feel upset or stressed or sad I think back to who I was in High School and feel proud of the progress I’ve made. I’m excited to see who I become. And I know, that I can do anything. I miss Yellowstone and I miss loving others. I think I might be lost and I’m left to wonder: am I going to wait to be found, or am I going to get out of the forest and find myself?
Sometimes I think of the park and almost cry. One thing I know is this: I’ve got the Yellowstone-Blues. The feeling of absolute despair that I won’t be there and the constant question of what I’m supposed to do instead. I look at the map on my wall and look at Canyon Village and wonder when if I’ll ever get to go home again. I made this decision and maybe I’m regretting it, but I know if it was the wrong one, I wouldn’t have made it. My gut told me not to go back and I’ve got to trust that. It’d be easier if I had any form of plan though. Maybe the blue sky wouldn’t break my heart so completely if I had anything to hold on to, had anything to be excited and scared about. At times like this, I want to call HR at Xanterra and beg and plead them to give me a job and let me come home. I want to call my mom and tell her she needs to pay my rent because I need to go back into that park and find myself. I think I’m there somewhere, standing on a trail or in the middle of Hayden Valley waiting to be found.
Sometimes at night I can’t when I can’t sleep my mind wanders back into memories. I imagine that I’m in my sleeping bag, falling asleep in my tent smelling like campfire and listening to the Ocean or The McKenzie. I imagine that you’ve hugged me goodnight and told me that you love me. I imagine that there’s a dog lying on my legs. I imagine that I’m in my room in Yellowstone, with the fan blowing and music playing softly. Essentially, I try and trick myself into thinking I’m almost anywhere but here. But, I know that I’m supposed to be here. Even when things go wrong, it’s still right. The campus is still beautiful; there are still professors who believe in me, still a boss who sees my bright future, still friends who care about me, still coworkers who respect me. Even when I want to run away so bad that it physically hurts, I know this is where I belong. Even when I feel upset or stressed or sad I think back to who I was in High School and feel proud of the progress I’ve made. I’m excited to see who I become. And I know, that I can do anything. I miss Yellowstone and I miss loving others. I think I might be lost and I’m left to wonder: am I going to wait to be found, or am I going to get out of the forest and find myself?
Friday, May 7, 2010
If I leave here tomorrow
My life is all over the place. My life is unknown. My life is wonderful.
My school told me to transfer. Told me I’d do well anywhere and that my life later will be so much better without these loans. Sometimes, when I try really hard I can see myself somewhere else; but I don’t like it. I don’t like the thought of not being back here.
I love this campus so much--- I always have. Always. My own, personal, real life Hogwarts (ps: I LOVE that word accepted Hogwarts as a real word!). I love the way the trees look against the sky at night walking back from dinner. I love walking through the ‘forbidden forest’ and stopping to smell the scent of summer on the bushes. I love the brick buildings and the ivy and the giant sequoia tree. I love how small it is but yet how we still worry about getting across campus in time.
I love the classes and professors here. I don’t know how I would do in huge classes; the largest I’ve ever had here was less than 30. I love that all my teachers know my name, stop to talk to me around campus, and sincerely want me to do well. I love that I have a major, a minor, a four year plan and an advisor who’s awesome.
I love that I can play bass clarinet. I love that my teacher likes me even though she could hate me. I love that I’ m becoming friends with the other people in my studio class. I love that we talk about and imagine what it will be like when we’re all seniors. I love that I’m starting to become better friends with the wind ensemble. I love that I love my band director.
I love that I have a job that is a safe place for me to go. I love that I’ve made such amazing friendships through work and it’s provided me with my needed place to shine. I love how when I’m upset or stressed (if I just took a rough test or had a bad lesson or am tired of the dorm) I can go to the info center and be instantly cheered up. I love that my boss is already planning my future there for the next three years. I love that I will miss working there this summer.
I love the things we do off campus. I love walking though the surrounding neighborhoods on sunny afternoons. I love walking to watch the sunset over the Puget Sound after concert band rehearsal on Wednesdays. I love going out to dinner or walking to the Met to buy food to make. I love driving up to Seattle. I love that tonight I sat with my feet in sand, with the smell and sound of the ocean with a fire roaring while the sunset before the Cascades. I love sitting in the car singing along to The Beatles and bitching about people.
I love that I do well here. I love how things just work out. I love how I am challenged and how I have to work and how sometimes I have to lock myself in my room and read or write or study. I love how I haven’t gotten anything lower than an 84% on anything all semester. I love that I was one of the smart kids in French. I love that if I don’t do anything to my final paper I’ll have a B+ in pysch (so I can easily get an A-). I love that my crazy philosophy professor thanked me for being there to be understanding of his jokes when the other kids were too dumb.
And, most importantly, I love the friends I’ve made here. I love how much we’re going to miss each other this summer and how excited we are to live together next year. I love how many people I will miss having class with and how glad I’ll be that our school is small enough for me to still see them on a regular basis. I love that it’s only been a year but that there are a lot of people graduating who I’ll miss as well. I love that we can do things or not do things and have it be fun. I love how even people I haven’t realized I’m friends with, I am.
I hate that I can’t actually imagine transferring. I hate the thought of not returning, of not graduating on this campus with these people. I hate picturing the conversations I’d have with Sarah, Jennifer, Tim, and Mr. Morris if I had to tell them I wouldn’t be back next semester. I hate thinking that I may never see these people again. I hate that the responsible thing to do is to leave. I hate how badly I want to stay.
But I’m keeping an open mind. We’ll see what the summer brings. We’ll see if I can be an RA junior year and if I can get the school to give me even a little more money.
Overall, this year has been wonderful. At times it’s been the hardest experience of my life. At times I’ve wanted nothing more than anything but this. But most of the time, it’s been amazing. I’ve learned so much about myself, about others, and about life. I’ve had so much fun and I’ve done well. I dove in, I almost ran out of oxygen on the chosen path, I found a new path. I’ve changed, but I’m still the same. I’m just more of who I really am.
I’ve learned that with time all relationships will end up in situations forcing people to show their true colors. I’ve learned that there is no such thing as a full proof plan. I’ve learned not to procrastinate. I’ve learned to believe in what I love. I’ve learned not to expect my mom to be as understanding as I think she is (only since you’re reading this…). I’ve learned that distance does matter.
But, more it’s so much more than what I’ve learned. It’s what I’ve found.
I’ve found a place where I belong. I’m excited for the year to be over. But as I face leaving, as I take things off my walls, I realize I’m already excited for when I get to come back.
And now, I’m going to sleep. In a room that smells like campfire, with a comforter I’ve had since 8th grade and I’m not setting any alarms.
I’m really excited to return to the valley and introduce you to who I’ve become. I know you’ll be proud, because I am. (So, even if you don’t, I could care less.)
My school told me to transfer. Told me I’d do well anywhere and that my life later will be so much better without these loans. Sometimes, when I try really hard I can see myself somewhere else; but I don’t like it. I don’t like the thought of not being back here.
I love this campus so much--- I always have. Always. My own, personal, real life Hogwarts (ps: I LOVE that word accepted Hogwarts as a real word!). I love the way the trees look against the sky at night walking back from dinner. I love walking through the ‘forbidden forest’ and stopping to smell the scent of summer on the bushes. I love the brick buildings and the ivy and the giant sequoia tree. I love how small it is but yet how we still worry about getting across campus in time.
I love the classes and professors here. I don’t know how I would do in huge classes; the largest I’ve ever had here was less than 30. I love that all my teachers know my name, stop to talk to me around campus, and sincerely want me to do well. I love that I have a major, a minor, a four year plan and an advisor who’s awesome.
I love that I can play bass clarinet. I love that my teacher likes me even though she could hate me. I love that I’ m becoming friends with the other people in my studio class. I love that we talk about and imagine what it will be like when we’re all seniors. I love that I’m starting to become better friends with the wind ensemble. I love that I love my band director.
I love that I have a job that is a safe place for me to go. I love that I’ve made such amazing friendships through work and it’s provided me with my needed place to shine. I love how when I’m upset or stressed (if I just took a rough test or had a bad lesson or am tired of the dorm) I can go to the info center and be instantly cheered up. I love that my boss is already planning my future there for the next three years. I love that I will miss working there this summer.
I love the things we do off campus. I love walking though the surrounding neighborhoods on sunny afternoons. I love walking to watch the sunset over the Puget Sound after concert band rehearsal on Wednesdays. I love going out to dinner or walking to the Met to buy food to make. I love driving up to Seattle. I love that tonight I sat with my feet in sand, with the smell and sound of the ocean with a fire roaring while the sunset before the Cascades. I love sitting in the car singing along to The Beatles and bitching about people.
I love that I do well here. I love how things just work out. I love how I am challenged and how I have to work and how sometimes I have to lock myself in my room and read or write or study. I love how I haven’t gotten anything lower than an 84% on anything all semester. I love that I was one of the smart kids in French. I love that if I don’t do anything to my final paper I’ll have a B+ in pysch (so I can easily get an A-). I love that my crazy philosophy professor thanked me for being there to be understanding of his jokes when the other kids were too dumb.
And, most importantly, I love the friends I’ve made here. I love how much we’re going to miss each other this summer and how excited we are to live together next year. I love how many people I will miss having class with and how glad I’ll be that our school is small enough for me to still see them on a regular basis. I love that it’s only been a year but that there are a lot of people graduating who I’ll miss as well. I love that we can do things or not do things and have it be fun. I love how even people I haven’t realized I’m friends with, I am.
I hate that I can’t actually imagine transferring. I hate the thought of not returning, of not graduating on this campus with these people. I hate picturing the conversations I’d have with Sarah, Jennifer, Tim, and Mr. Morris if I had to tell them I wouldn’t be back next semester. I hate thinking that I may never see these people again. I hate that the responsible thing to do is to leave. I hate how badly I want to stay.
But I’m keeping an open mind. We’ll see what the summer brings. We’ll see if I can be an RA junior year and if I can get the school to give me even a little more money.
Overall, this year has been wonderful. At times it’s been the hardest experience of my life. At times I’ve wanted nothing more than anything but this. But most of the time, it’s been amazing. I’ve learned so much about myself, about others, and about life. I’ve had so much fun and I’ve done well. I dove in, I almost ran out of oxygen on the chosen path, I found a new path. I’ve changed, but I’m still the same. I’m just more of who I really am.
I’ve learned that with time all relationships will end up in situations forcing people to show their true colors. I’ve learned that there is no such thing as a full proof plan. I’ve learned not to procrastinate. I’ve learned to believe in what I love. I’ve learned not to expect my mom to be as understanding as I think she is (only since you’re reading this…). I’ve learned that distance does matter.
But, more it’s so much more than what I’ve learned. It’s what I’ve found.
I’ve found a place where I belong. I’m excited for the year to be over. But as I face leaving, as I take things off my walls, I realize I’m already excited for when I get to come back.
And now, I’m going to sleep. In a room that smells like campfire, with a comforter I’ve had since 8th grade and I’m not setting any alarms.
I’m really excited to return to the valley and introduce you to who I’ve become. I know you’ll be proud, because I am. (So, even if you don’t, I could care less.)
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Imperious Me
Life here as I know it is honestly almost over. There's so little time left. So few days that I'll return home to my little dorm room. The hours that our pictures will hang on my wall are growing limited. It's almost over.
I have this deep feeling of excited nervousness about Yellowstone and all it may or may not bring. I have this image of sitting on the bus, watching Corvallis, Oregon, The Pacific Northwest fading behind me, and a land-locked state of wild blooming into reality before me.
I see trees of green, red roses too.
It's so wonderfully spring here and I love it wholly despite it's instability. Because, hey, aren't we all just a little unstable?
I had a dream about transferring last night, I'm still thinking about it, I'm still not sure. I could, I understand the reasons why it seems like the best possible option, but yet.... I don't know if I want to leave it behind.
It feels better. But I don't know if better is right. When coming from my past, a lot can feel better without being good enough.
I need someone who really knows me to help me figure this stuff out.
But really, I love this campus. And really, I have made friends.
Maybe, I'm just not who I think I am?
I have this deep feeling of excited nervousness about Yellowstone and all it may or may not bring. I have this image of sitting on the bus, watching Corvallis, Oregon, The Pacific Northwest fading behind me, and a land-locked state of wild blooming into reality before me.
I see trees of green, red roses too.
It's so wonderfully spring here and I love it wholly despite it's instability. Because, hey, aren't we all just a little unstable?
I had a dream about transferring last night, I'm still thinking about it, I'm still not sure. I could, I understand the reasons why it seems like the best possible option, but yet.... I don't know if I want to leave it behind.
It feels better. But I don't know if better is right. When coming from my past, a lot can feel better without being good enough.
I need someone who really knows me to help me figure this stuff out.
But really, I love this campus. And really, I have made friends.
Maybe, I'm just not who I think I am?
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
When you can't Breathe
Give me a reason.
Tell me why I should stay. Tell me why I should keep attempting to fit into this social system. I know the amount of angst in this statement, but I honestly don’t fit in.
Nature is so much easier.
Out in the trees, under the sky, there are no false standards. There is no room to be fake or to be shallow. There is only love. There is only respect. There is only truth.
Live with truth.
All around me people are so fake. Life is so shallow. Don’t they understand there is more than popularity? Why can’t they be okay with being alone?
Nature is the solution.
I must break free of these social contracts, these false bonds. I must hike until my legs give out. I must breathe the fresh air until my lungs are full.
Give me love.
If you can honestly wrap our arms around me and make me feel like you will miss me in a sense that it would hurt you, then, then I will stay.
I won’t transfer. I’ll continue in relationships I already know are repeats of what hopefully is not an endless cycle. I’ll continue to be the me I don’t like. The me I respect will continue to only surface in private in the early hours of the morning. I’ll continue to take out loans and to pay them off and be poor for the majority of my life. I’ll keep reassuring others how wonderful it is for me here. I’ll keep putting on a fake smile. I’ll go three more years without love or a hug.
I will return in the fall and remain here for the following semesters. I won’t stay in Yellowstone or live off the land. I’m too responsible for that. I care far too much about what others think then to stop with college now. Dropping music was drastic enough, if I stopped all together it would be too hard to explain. No one would understand. I’d be that kid, the one with potential who burned out in high school. The one everyone thinks they understand but that no one knows.
My soul is hurt right now. It’s down on the ground and it seems more likely to be kicked than to be helped up. I need nature. The trees and water of the McKenzie. The vastness of the ocean. The desolation of Eastern Oregon. The climb up Dimple Hill. The view from Mary’s Peak. I need to sit in your backyard with you. I need you. I need your love. I need the sky and the stars. I need everything I cannot have.
This is just a phase. The quarter life crisis screaming to be heard. Most people go through this. It’s nothing to worry about. It will pass. The rest of the year will finish fast and by next fall I’ll be dying to come back. I’ll greet them happily. I’ll take shots and have fun. I’ll silence my soul for another year.
Hopefully, Yellowstone lets it grow.
Tell me why I should stay. Tell me why I should keep attempting to fit into this social system. I know the amount of angst in this statement, but I honestly don’t fit in.
Nature is so much easier.
Out in the trees, under the sky, there are no false standards. There is no room to be fake or to be shallow. There is only love. There is only respect. There is only truth.
Live with truth.
All around me people are so fake. Life is so shallow. Don’t they understand there is more than popularity? Why can’t they be okay with being alone?
Nature is the solution.
I must break free of these social contracts, these false bonds. I must hike until my legs give out. I must breathe the fresh air until my lungs are full.
Give me love.
If you can honestly wrap our arms around me and make me feel like you will miss me in a sense that it would hurt you, then, then I will stay.
I won’t transfer. I’ll continue in relationships I already know are repeats of what hopefully is not an endless cycle. I’ll continue to be the me I don’t like. The me I respect will continue to only surface in private in the early hours of the morning. I’ll continue to take out loans and to pay them off and be poor for the majority of my life. I’ll keep reassuring others how wonderful it is for me here. I’ll keep putting on a fake smile. I’ll go three more years without love or a hug.
I will return in the fall and remain here for the following semesters. I won’t stay in Yellowstone or live off the land. I’m too responsible for that. I care far too much about what others think then to stop with college now. Dropping music was drastic enough, if I stopped all together it would be too hard to explain. No one would understand. I’d be that kid, the one with potential who burned out in high school. The one everyone thinks they understand but that no one knows.
My soul is hurt right now. It’s down on the ground and it seems more likely to be kicked than to be helped up. I need nature. The trees and water of the McKenzie. The vastness of the ocean. The desolation of Eastern Oregon. The climb up Dimple Hill. The view from Mary’s Peak. I need to sit in your backyard with you. I need you. I need your love. I need the sky and the stars. I need everything I cannot have.
This is just a phase. The quarter life crisis screaming to be heard. Most people go through this. It’s nothing to worry about. It will pass. The rest of the year will finish fast and by next fall I’ll be dying to come back. I’ll greet them happily. I’ll take shots and have fun. I’ll silence my soul for another year.
Hopefully, Yellowstone lets it grow.
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