Tuesday, July 24, 2007

When I Finished Harry Potter and Cried For James, Anna and Leslie, and Many Others

I sleep with my windows wide open because its comforting to feel that even though the world is dark and lonely, streetlamps are on to illuminate people’s ways on even the darkest of nights. Though I may be laying down, blanket warming me, and my head softly resting on a pillow, there are others that are still out there wandering, eventually, and hopefully, finding their way home.

We anticipated that life doesn’t end when the sun sets, and that life always seems to be more interesting at night, and thus we placed streetlamps on corners, along streets, to keep us from being lost. Its instinct, I believe, that truly prevents us from ever really being lost, because at every moment, and ever second we have been psychologically trained to survive. How did we ever manage to beat out the wooly mammoth or the saber-toothed tiger if we didn’t naturally just really want to live and see another sunrise?

This need, this constant and never-ending desire to breathe, to find light, is what brings love into your life. It draws people into your heart, and not because we consciously strive to find people that will guide us and help us, but because it is what we have done for thousands of years. A person lost is not one that doesn’t know where they are, but rather one that has lost all hope of ever knowing where they are. You can never truly be lost until you admit that there is no way that you can find your way, and when there are people in your life that act as guideposts you can never be lost.

“No man is an island, entire unto himself. Ever man is a piece of a continent, a part of the main,” preached John Donne. He said this to the knowledge seeking people of the Renaissance, people whose life was being affected every day by new technology, new art, new music, new ways to wage war, new ways to cure disease, new ways to die, new ways to truly live. Isn’t that so similar to the lives that we lead now? Everyday we are exposed to a myriad of things that make us happy, and everyday we learn of things that make us infinitely sad. There isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t walk under the sun, and there isn’t a day that we don’t walk in the shadows.

Darkness. I seem to touch it everyday, and not in the ways that would seem most obvious, like realizing impending doom in the world, but rather within myself. Within us we carry an immense tolerance of pain and of happiness, but it is the pain that takes the greatest toll on us. You can drown in sorrow more readily than you can drown in the ocean, and yet we can survive. We can survive because light just seems to come amidst the major storms in life, and it just so happens that it can exist in the embrace of a friend, the kind words of a stranger, in the unbreakable bond between family.

This is what friends are. They are the streetlamps that keep you from being lost in the dark. Regardless of where you are and where you are going, they are there to keep you from falling off the edge of the cliff, crashing into a wall, or simply from succumbing to a darkness that could seem eternal. There is sunlight, sure, but when the night comes, rest assured that there is always light.

There is always hope. And so even as a child, when I was afraid of the dark, and now as an adult, when I’m afraid that the night will never end, I look at the lampposts and I fall asleep… because I am not lost, because there will always be a way to find my way home.

Monday, July 16, 2007

When I Was Leaving, But You Were Still Here

So I call it the “Going Away to College” Blues.

But really it could be the “I’m scared out of my mind, but not really” Syndrome. I mean, I always knew it was coming. Of course after high school had to come something, whether it was getting a job, or well, going to college. I pictured it differently though.

Here’s what I thought would happen:
I would graduate. I would be incredibly sad because I was leaving all my best friends, but we would hang out all of summer and every moment would be somehow more significant. We would all reminisce about how high school was amazing, but college would be better because some of us would be going to the same one, even dorming. I’d probably be going to Berkeley or San Diego, but maybe even UCLA. I would be worried because I’d feel bad about moving out of my house and leaving the family in general. It would be an extra long summer too, because class wouldn’t start around September. In the end, I would just want to be with my friends all the time, and perhaps even a boy, enjoying what was left of being a kid.

Here’s what’s actually happening:
I graduated. I truly didn’t hate going to Granada because it was an escape from home, but still, I don’t have the fondest memories of senior year. It actually kind of sucked. A lot. I did well, and had really kick ass friends, but, I don’t know… something was missing, or something was altogether too abundant. I do want to be with my friends a lot, but as the date of me moving away gets closer and closer, I feel conflicted. People that I really love, I can’t seem to be around because I feel like I want to tell them everything. I want to say, remember the time that we… and then everything blurs together. Every moment that has past seems to escape the ability to actually be remembered, and I can’t seem to be able to pinpoint when and how we became best friends. And then there are the people that I can’t call or talk to that I really want to, because it just feels that they’ve already left.

Isn’t that strange? The past four years, I have wanted nothing more than to leave high school, and now I want nothing more than to just be back in that time period when all the people I know and I had a future together. I know its possible that I will still be friends with some of the people I went to high school with, yet… will it be the same? Next summer, will I dread coming home and leaving the people I will then have spent a year with? Won’t everyone feel that way?

I wish I had more time, is the point I guess. I wish I had more time with some people, so that I could know that we’d be friends in a decade… or even a year. And some people I wish I could go back and change certain moments. If this had never happened, would these feelings still be relevant?

I guess having the blues is complicated. I wish I had chosen my actions more wisely. But now all I have is the present, this moment right now. I have the future too.

Here’s what I want to happen:
I want to let go of all the bad feelings that I hold on to from senior year. Against everyone that I may have wronged (and I wronged some) and those that wronged me (and some did). I want to be happy. I want to be with Leslie as many times as possible this summer. I want to play Mario Kart with Jamie and James. I want to go with James to Italy. I want to dress up one more time with Anna, and go somewhere where we can talk about how much we love Cole Porter, and how we’re still completely in love with the Top Ten Greatest Moment Ever (she knows which one it is). I want to tell Mikey that I didn’t make a huge mistake when I had a crush on him junior year.

And yeah, god, there are a lot of people I’ll miss.

Here are some inside jokes/comments that well… are inside jokes/comments that only those select few would know:
“Hey…this isn’t my wallet.”
“I’m American, white, and twelve inches.”

That made me a little sad. But hey, they wouldn’t call it the blues if I was laughing.