I'm typing this and last night I couldn't, because Nate doesn't have internet access. I stayed the night there on his couch while we played mindless video games and spoke of things. I said that I would not miss the campus, but just the people. Well, that night I missed the people and tonight I do too. I think college ending just all came to a head in the last two days. For such a monumental occasion, it's an oblong pill to swallow. It hurts going down. And I should be nostalgic and on and on but also keep an eye on the most exciting future. Rome awaits. Nervous/Excited.
I type this as an effort of mass communication because I wanted to stop by everyone's house before I got out of Boulder. I wanted to have them open the door and have me stumble over words trying to explain how much they mean to me. Gesture, stutter, be the anti-poet that comes out from the depthdark of black ink when I need to show emotions without making them rhyme first. This makes them more naked, though, more real. I don't want to tell you that I love you in front of an open mic. I want to tell you it to your face. I want you to know even though I don't even say anything. To communicate with eyes is one step away from telepathy.
I'm typing this because this is one of those pulse-quick experiences that seems to come so fast. Right now I'm under the lazy blue curl of a tsunami and reminding myself that I love water. I didn't think I would be this sad but I am. And goddamn you all for being so simply wonderful that I would miss you all so much.
I thought, on the way home, that I would type out another Friend List. I don't have the stamina to do that tonight but I have several very clear faces in my mind when I think of people whom I'm glad I know. The funny thing is, some I have seen this week, some I haven't seen in a year. I don't know what in the world is wrong with me - to feel some rampant, continual desire to say "thank you" but I do. I told my father today that it feels as though my heart is bigger and trying to wrap around so many people. This does not mean crushes. heh, well, sure, partially. But it's a more wholesome love and curiously, I think it may stand toe to toe with regular infatuation. Love is love is love. The kisses can come or not.
As I type this I can hear my brother downstairs warbeling tunes to himself as he gets out of the shower. I'm home again. I'll be working around the house from 8am to 5pm, doing handyman chores, and I think the regulation of tightening bolts, painting walls, and cutting lawns might sever a small part of the thing that is gnawing me. It's sadness and I've done everything from prevention to perscription to keep it away, but I know that it can't always be avoided and is sometimes required. Fine. I'll take it. But I ache more from love than from true depression and I think that, for all the deep blue hue that the sadness is intrenched in, it's still a beautiful thing, an offspring from good fortune and the space left from it gone. I miss you. I do. And I'm not gone yet.
vacancy,
Jared