It’s easier to sit in and pout because you never get to see anyone anymore. I find it’s easier for me to let the things I care about the deepest fall by the wayside. It seems paradoxical, but if it’s completely out of my life, compared to half-in half-out, I’m not thinking about it. This is especially true, I’ve realized, for my friends from St. Lawrence.
It wasn’t a bad year. I learned a lot. I got into some new things. I met people. It wasn’t a bad year, but it also wasn’t very me. Losing something like who you are doesn’t happen all at once. It maybe happens in increments, as, inch by inch, you let more things slip and fall away.
As I was walking across campus on Sunday, waiting for my ride, after everyone else had left, it hit me as hard as it hit me five years ago. And I mean, it hit me hard. I’m walking, just walking, not really knowing where I’m going, eyes on the clock tower, thinking, “I can’t do this. I can’t leave again.”
This is your life. You can’t wait for it. You can’t wait until you have enough money to see your friends. You can’t wait until you have enough time to write. You can’t wait for someone else to shake you out of it.
I mean, why do we work? What’s the point of having the money if you don’t spend it? What’s the point of thinking about things all the time and not doing them? I am turning 27 on Friday. Later is now. Because it has to be, and because I am deciding it is. I guess sometimes you have to fly 1,500 miles to figure out how to come back home.
So when my friend called me yesterday, I called her back. And I told her what I’d already decided: that I’m thinking of going to New York this summer, that I’m looking at plane tickets right now.
And you take out your flash drive, and you drag that folder of writing to the front of the desktop, and you start to think about setting a schedule, setting the alarm tomorrow. And you start reading things over, and making plans.
And then you buy a plane ticket. Because $200 is nothing. And life is short.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
St. Lawrence, and what it means to us
This is from a blog called Still Life With Soup Can, written by a former SLU student: