How do I begin?
Finally I am here again. It seems I always come back when I am too full to keep holding all my observations in just my heart's two hands. Actually, I think my heart may have far more hands than two. I plow through days and days of life-happenings without giving it a real chance to stop and sort through what it carries. That awkward conversation, this look in his eyes, and the homeless man on the street all stretch out open hands toward my heart like abandoned children- waiting for someone to do something about their existence. I get so filled over the span of my days, I lose count of the anythings and everythings that I'm supposed to be thinking about.
Erin sent me a message via myspace today, with pictures of us making memories before a Copeland show we went to back in 9th grade.
I smiled at first, and read past the pictures to the end of the message.
But then, I got stuck.
Scrolling back up, I let my eyes just sink into that photograph. I must've seen it fifty times before, but something about it landed right in the middle of me tonight. In the background, my daddy was playing acoustic guitar and singing the song he wrote for me when I was little. Just then, it was like my heart looked at all the many, many things in all her hands and shook her head sadly. Somewhere in me, I got caught between then and now. Who I have been and who I have become.
There is so much tension in this transition.
Because, I miss the girl who looks back at me from that picture. But I think I only miss her because I don't know how to live in the world I have stepped into. I walk through crowds of people whose faces are veiled and undisclosed to me, and I don't know how to meet their glance with mine. I go to malls alone and buy clothes alone and eat alone and walk through rainy, damp parking decks alone. Alone because there's no one else shopping at Lenox? I assure you, no. Alone in a crowd; we are alone together.
What is hard about this is not that I'm not always with someone. I can be perfectly happy on my own. It is a question of belonging, of having a place.
If only I had this worked out within myself. Then maybe I could make sense of it on your behalf. But it is so unclear and messy to me, so gritty and unrefined, that probably most of my thoughts on the subject will be the same.
Here is sort of how it feels,
You live in the same house for the first 10 years of your life. Then you move. A month later, you come back to see how the new owners have taken ahold of your old place. Within moments, you're in tears. Unbeknownst to your mental faculties, your heart is overwhelmed by the feelings of no longer knowing what wall your bed used to face because your room is now an office. Or of your closet being re-carpeted from where your dog once destroyed it. These are your memories; this was your place. Now, where can you stand? Even just sitting on these unfamiliar couches is strange- it is time to move on.
That feeling is, in addition to being inexplicable, very, very hard.
I think it's got something to do with growing up.
I know it does.
Anyway, it seems much of my thinking is melancholy these days. Sorry if this is less fun. (:
It would be no good if I didn't write from where I am.
In addition to this,
Things to Smile About:
1. Raspberry Milk is excellent. I tried it on a whim the other night. I made it myself using raspberry syrup. Definitely recommended.
2. New Dresses. I am going on a 5th-monthiversary/going away to BJYUK date this Friday and needed something snappy to wear. Dates are snappy events. So, I found the American Apparel store next to Lenox mall today and went bravely in to face the brazen advertisements in favor of a greater cause. After much deliberation and conversing with a very hairy young man, I emerged victorious. The brilliant thing about this dress is that you can wear it more than fifteen different ways. I've been wanting one since my lovely Ashley friend showed me the two she has. They are lifechanging. click here, ignore the sketchy models, and watch the video. AMAZING.
3. 5th-monthiversary dates. This gets its own smile. I'm happy.:)
4. Happy parents. This one I am adding in lieu of the fact that my mom just came chasing my dad up the stairs from the basement, exploding with laughter. A beautiful sound, and even more fun to watch.
Now, it is time to consider showering and sleeping.
Thank you for being here.
and p.s.:
good days. :)
4 comments:
thanks for sharing this Amo...change is not very easy for me...I am glad you decided to write today!!!
- Dustin
i match your picture, braceface!:D
aloneness is so hard to deal with. there are moments in my day when i feel alone, so alone. mainly it's a time period between 11:45 and 12:35. time seems to stop, and at any moment, harsh words may spew from any one of their four mouths and make me feel like nothing. i guess that's not really alone, more like lonely. it's when i wish i had someone who would stand up for me and say, "actually, no, she isn't, she won't, she doesn't, or any other of the above." or at least that i would have the courage to say something back besides smiling and answering politely like they weren't being sarcastic, and they truly cared. i can't tell if my method works on bullies. it seems to only spur them on. oh well.
but aloneness occurs when i, too, am alone. when i am walking up and down the aisles of grocery stores, restaraunts, hallways at school, or wherever i may go, and realize no one i know is anywhere close to me. it scares me, the possibility of moving. because the aloneness i feel occasionally at those times would have no cure. i wouldn't know anyone, anywhere.
i'm sorry you're alone so much. it makes me so sad thinking about you eating by yourself. that more than anything else makes me sad. eating always just seemed to me like something people should do together. how often do you go to a restaraunt and you see table and chair?
i would make myself into a little keychain so you could carry a little companion with you wereever you go, if i could.
but i can't. so know that you're loved even when you're alone.
and i think you're right.... i think aloneness comes with growing up. i don't like it. but it seems like one of those harsh realities every adult would agree with if you asked them about it.
hope you enjoyed my blog, practically. i love you. i hope to see you soon.
p.s. keep writing. always.
annie, will i everrrrrrrr see you again.
i am so glad you got the dress!
i heard about your grand date/adventure and peter pan and flat tires and friendly gay men and explosions in the sky tickets...how lovely. :)
your man gave back his spoon and it was extremely momentous and funny, but i'm sure you've heard about it by now.
how is everything?? i hope it's not too crazy busy.
lots o love dear,
grace.
it's fun at first, walking through crowds of people you don't know, because you get to listen to snippets of outrageous conversation and try to catch people's eye just to see how long they will hold it before looking away (or before I do), and seeing who will actually smile back while they are still looking at you (that's a rare one), or walking over a quarter mile next to the same person, and feeling the need to say goodbye once you finally part ways...
some days I can do that. but other days I just feel lonely.
in a way loneliness is a comfort, because it is a sign that we were never truly meant to be by ourselves all the time. why else would it feel so awful? it's like the light on a gas tank meter, letting us know when our souls are almost empty, so we can be filled by the ones who love us. we all need alone time sometimes, but if you keep running long enough with that light on, well, you just...stop. you have to; it's not a decision. being alone for too long drains you of your being. I hope you are not experiencing it to that extent my dear annie. but I most definitely understand your predicament. and I know Atlanta must intensify the situation much more than Athens. I love you, and I hope I get to see you sometime in the next six months or something, you know.
:)
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