not scared

 I’m supposed to be writing a proposal for my wildlife class.

It’s in a funky format that I don’t understand and I have no one to ask and I really

need a break. after that is calculus, which I’m sure will take me into hours I don’t want to think about.

I’ve been rather stuck in my own mind lately because, well, there are multiple reasons.

1) Drunk called, face timed with David a while ago. Sharp heart pangs. At the time my most recent interest was rather withdrawn

and then he was less withdrawn and now I’m pretty sure this is mostly about sex, which is fine with me. David texted me on monday. More

sharp heart pangs. And I’m conflicted. as always. Because there is no realistic way that David and I could work out, and I’ve had sex with

2 people since I left LA in august, and I feel that it’s disrespectful not to tell him, but it would break his heart if I did.

2) I failed my first wildlife exam, hard. Embarrassingly so and I don’t understand why I’m so dense. I was feeling better about all of this and

now I want to crawl in a hole and hide. Because I don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m doing it. It’s terrifying to think that I’m on the wrong

path, back to square one in figuring out my career. I have nowhere to start. But at the same time it feels like it would be giving up too easily.

3) I found out childhood friend of my mom’s died recently. I hadn’t seen her since I was 10, but she made a big impact on me, one of the only

adults I ever met that lit the fire in my creativity in my childhood. She and I have similar personalities. But she also suffered from depression

and bi-polar disorder and childhood abuse and never stuck around long. I found her facebook and through that her blog, it only had about

20 entries, and it seems she went on this journey across the united states, looking for something, but ended up in Washington without ever

finding it. I sense something in that journey that didn’t have what she was hoping for lies the tragedy. In her blog, she mentions this coffee

shop in Shelton multiple times, writing about her life in this coffee shop. I wish I could have known her more, talked to her in adulthood,

because she made such an impact on me as a child. I’ll never even know if she remembered what she did for me, the 8 year old with the

imagination. I feel like I need to go to Washington, I need to go to this coffee shop. I can’t articulate exactly why, but it’s a compulsion I feel.

I think this january I will. 

love and spiderwebs

phoebe