I've had plenty of small reminders for my age. While off in another state for my STLF trip, my father told me I got a letter in the mail for jury duty. Upon arriving home this weekend, my driver's license that proves I'm an "official" adult was in the mail (and, I must say, the picture is quite wonderful!). The puppy I adore so much is grown and fur-filled:
It's odd to be home. More so than when I was away in New Zealand, as I had an excuse to not really be home.
Of course, these aren't "normal" circumstances, you could say. Heart aching; I've managed to bring myself yet again to the emotion of the life pinch that screams, "Yep! You're alive, all right!" I've separated myself from the situation, unplanned, and it's weird to be back in a place full of things I've forgotten about.
I held a book in my hand for the first time in weeks, a book not meant for school, and my fingertips trembled at the familiar touch. It has been so long since I've indulged in my reading and writing, mind so preoccupied with things that I should not have even worried about. Everywhere, things I'd pronounced not important enough to take with me. It all seemed so foreign in a sense.
But things were still the same. Mocha, our quiet dog patiently waiting for me to come over and whisper my love. Dad working on yet another project that started out as a simple replacement and turned into a remodeling thanks to bad construction/no upkeeping from owners before us. Mom's warm arms, laughter and ideas. Keal's smartass remarks I've come to enjoy being around and inside jokes. My dirty room I can never seem to keep clean, no matter what.
I usually forget something when going one direction to another. I'd forgotten loads of clothes when I went to New Zealand. I'd left a whole bag of bathroom items when I left New Zealand. It tends to be a charger here or a CD there with these small trips, but I didn't forget anything this time. Anything I left was left intentionally. I made lists upon lists, and could only come up with some things to bring back to further the comfort of my room, such as more pillow cases, an extra towel or my baggy pants.
I started to think about what I could have forgotten, when I thought that maybe I'd just left myself somewhere. I'm so emotionally drained from the past two weeks that the only thing that manages to emerge is happiness, something that always tags along despite the fact that I lose the leash it's tied to constantly. Finding my books and past sketchbooks made me realize how I'd been focusing on myself, and that though it's important to focus on myself, the way I'd been going about it wasn't the way I'd wanted to. How could I leave such important parts of myself behind? Yoga pad, books, journals, pictures... I was planning on losing myself, or had at least set myself up for so. No wonder I was going through such a confusing emotional period.
I'm twenty-one. I have so much to still learn--at least I've managed to hit a nail in the many when it comes to infatuation. I'll hopefully hit more as I become more comfortable with myself and others. Until then, I plan on being busy with many-a-thing of back on track physically and mentally. I'm sure I'll appreciate it.
Random Fact: Thirty-five percent of the people who use personal ads for dating are already married. Jerks.
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