on the way home at last…

what a year it has been.  starting off the semester, everything was going my way–and i didn’t believe it possible to be happier.  i remember moments of what seemed like unexplained euphoria, where my whole body seemed to be alive and quaking with everything good.  i felt full with the love of good friends, so much time spent in ways i found worthwhile; real.  by february, i felt my life had completely fallen into place.

i remember the bright eyes concert with katie and chelsea.  the pounding of the bass and drums in my chest, katie’s eyes full of excitement, her lips mouthing every word. 

i remember my friends at the backhouse, drinking their beer, throwing darts, and laughing our asses off.  brandon and his magic feet.

i remember valentine’s day with matt.  good panera sandwiches and better conversation.  the awkward questions in my mind about who he was to me were my greatest concerns at the time.  so simple, those things.

i remember driving with bryan to roanoke.  the beatles, the mosquitos, music in portuguese.  oh, bryan.  those conversations that never began or ended, only existed in time unmarked and unmeasured.  cups of tea innumerable, pictures posed and candid, your rebelliant long hair in your face and your mill mountain coffee mug in hand.

i remember that wednesday at K2 with the girls.  feeling beautiful, alive, and full of life.  dancing with rock stars, grinning my grins, blushing with compliments from emily, katie, and strangers.  jeff.

i can barely remember one day in thirty, feeling empty.  one day in so many when i knew something was missing.  melancholy, inadequate, incomplete.  what seemed like unexplained sadness, pouring out, hoping to make room for some new joy.

i remember a day of terrible sadness.  a wednesday in spring.  when i felt capable of  nothing.  broken.  when i realized how many hold me together with their love.  bryan holding on to me while i soaked his clean shirt in my ridiculous emotion.  matt arduini making me feel better than anyone had been able to do, telling me to get mad, throw things, scream and yell and tear things apart. 

i remember the next day, being forced away from all that.  being asked to focus myself elsewhere.  exactly what i needed.

i remember the next four days, days that couldn’t have come at a better time.  i remember caitlin’s letter, so good, so real, so full of love.  making me lose my composure on the spot–about everything.  i remember matt’s letter.  simple and real.

i remember kevin.  that first conversation, about music. brand new.  rilo kiley.  indy rock.  i remember that first game of euchre.  he told me i was good.  he probably lied.  i remember each night staying up with him, until everyone else was in bed.  that first awkward hug.  the way he would lightly touch my arm or the small of my back when it seemed appropriate.  the way i noticed.  i remember that late night walk up the mountain in the moonlight.  barely any stars for the brightness of that moon.  laying on our backs in a field, freezing.  i remember wondering what he was thinking.  what he was thinking about me.  reassuring myself that he would be a good friend to have, and that would be enough.  that i shouldn’t get attached.  to take it for what it was; a retreat friendship, that would probably dissolve with the distance that would be placed between us once we returned to our respective schools.  i remember how he called me the very next day.  and how in the next few days and weeks, any doubt, all questions, and all fears i had dissolved.  how so quickly, so quickly, i knew that he was for me.  and i remember being happier than i ever thought possible.  that first kiss as if it were yesterday.  what he wore, the way he smelled, the nervousness in his hands and in his eyes.

i remember the next two months all in a blur.

good friday.  maureen, tears, and tea, opened arms and opened heart.  prayers offered and given, over and over, for hours on end.  "give me peace."

leela’s birthday.  i am a fool.  matt arduini walking me back, while i lean on his arm and say silly things i can’t remember.

singing beside my friends, all in a circle with the spirit filling our voices.  matt morrell making me laugh, unable to sing.

oh that basement with those guys.  "you know what this is sounding like.. emmylou harris with dylan on ‘desire.’"  i am warm.  warm with pride i didn’t know i had.

in that very last week of school, d-hall with tim.  his smile.  his candid opened mind.  his ability to relax me with his presence.  something he should do for himself.  the relief i felt to find he would be staying on one more year.

i remember the deep despondence of knowing my hardest goodbye yet was fast approaching.  the emails, the overly emotional yelling, the wanting to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he understood.  loving him more like family than any friend i’ve ever had. 

i’ll remember that goodbye a long time.  holding on.  not wanting to release.  "see you later," he said.  i nod.  "no, see you soon," he corrected.  i can’t say anything because if i do, the tears won’t stop.  they come anyway.  maureen embracing my sadness.  christene stroking my hair, matt rubbing my shoulders.  my friends trying so hard to lift my grief.  my mourning a part of my life coming to an end.  a part that held me together, made me more, made me better, made me love more of life–for two short years.

i remember days and nights with kevin, looking in his eyes. making him uneasy.  i remember those words i never thought i would say so soon; so young.  and i remember feeling what it was to have him say those words back to me.  feeling the weight deep in my heart of hearts.  the reality.  my whole being, washed with something i’ve never felt in my life.  nothing even close.  my shaking hands.  his pounding heart.  my breath which could not be caught.  i breathe deeper and look further into his eyes.  it won’t be caught.

i remember screaming in the elevator, wanting to rip my hair out.  crying, screaming, yelling, angry, passionate, on fire into the phone.  "what the hell is wrong with them?!"  all he said, everything he said, all he needed to say; "i wish i were there."

i remember golden sunlight through the window, falling onto katie’s bed.  "will you come be with me?"  my fingers in her hair.  my heart full of, brimming with things i wanted to tell her.  about him.  feeling a swell when she said she thought this was going to be different.  this was going to be real.  knowing she was right.

i remember chelsea’s broken heart.  her wasted love.  her unfair loss.  something broken and empty behind her eyes.&nbs

p; something i couldn’t understand–couldn’t fix.  wanted to fix.  so very much.  her crying eyes.  her beautiful chelsea face, wet and unhappy.  "i can’t remember the last time i was really, truly happy."  oh chelsea.  take some of mine.  take it.  i want that for you. 

so fast this human convention of time has become.  is this how life is to continue?  progressively faster until one day it’s gone?  so many more memories i can think of to fill volumes.  only three months, to fill volumes.  spring break, the detroit girls, frustrating matt.  dinners and lunches and with my grandparents.  making stew with bryan.  study sessions for horrible terrible physics with lauren.  candide shows at little grill and ccm.  kevin at the sculpture park, kevin at anthony seeger, kevin on the heated steps, kevin on the roof of festival.  chelsea and kirsten in the mornings, 5-8 tuesdays, xjm.  mexican mondays for a third straight semester.  only two more semesters left with my katie.  working in the costume shop with john.  christina.  kathleen.  jenner.  every night for the past two months, waiting for that phone call.  waking in the morning thinking of his face, unable to keep myself from calling, writing, thinking, dreaming of him.  losing all composure after huging katie goodbye, though i know i’ll be seeing her before i know it.  packing up my damn room in logan for ten hours striaght, completely alone.  looking at it’s empty walls and bare floors, and not feeling a note of remorse.  nothing like leaving gifford.  like leaving the room that was full of laughter and weird memories and chelsea, the best roomate i’ll ever have.  holding onto kevin in the airport, looking in his eyes not realizing what i’m looking at until i read his letter.  everything.

three months of home ahead.  old friends, my town, my room.  tillamook, maybe camp, but definately music, letters, ice cream, and family.  and to return to class, ccm, council, swing dances, an apartment with my friends and my own room.  kevin, more trips to charlottesville, and less time left at college.

another year, come and gone.  i go back and read entries from previous ends of years.  there’s a common thread; life is speeding blurrily by.  i can’t slow this down and that terrifies me.  with all these goodbyes, all these changes.  people graduating, moving on, saying farewell.  i don’t know of anyone who i can guarantee will be with me from now until this blink of an eye is up.  no one can promise me that.  so for now, i’ll take what i can get.  and hold it for as long and hard as i can.