The urge to write pried open my tired eyes, and left me wide awake.
I've spent the last month and a half staying with my mom, sister and some friends back on campus. That first part of the month was a rollercoaster of emotions, but I thought maybe that was the worst of it.
Things I've learned: my grieving comes in waves, and not just little lapping waves that might accidentally get the top of your shorts a little damp. I'm talking 20' soakers that somehow come up unannounced and overwhelming and there's nowhere to run or hide.
Recent studies show that heartbreak or heartache is a physical pain*. As in I should be able to pop a few tylenol and be on my way...I thought being home was sorta like taking pain meds. I'm comfortable, I spend my time how I choose, I can relax or see people...I'm in charge of what happens in my day. Apparently that is all I'm in charge of though because my demandingly unpredictable emotions have dibs on the rest of me. One minute I am perfectly neutral, I could be happy or sad, but mostly just pleasantly blank of any heightened emotion. Then in a few blinks of the eye I'm elated, enjoying a great conversation, or Whose Line is it Anyway video to only fall suddenly quiet in a introspective state. I feel like a lily pad with one tenuous root tethered to the bottom of a murky pond. I'm am floating, delicately attached but also close to uprooting and following whatever current that takes me first.
*No citations, but I gleaned this nugget from Pinterest, so you know it's true.
I ache in my very bones for the happiness I had. The brand of happy then is now shrouded in rose tinted vagaries. At night I lay there breathing in and out, playing out memories in my head until its so cluttered it hurts. I miss the quite confidence of another's assured love. The span of distance presented no problems and the return home was a promise of future joy. Now there's the twinge of loneliness present, reminding me I must face the coming year without my appointed defender by my side. It's a soft sigh in the darkness, a silently shed tear and a whisper of regret.
I ache for what was. For what changed...my momentum is just now slowing down like a liquid in a bottle that was wildly spun then quickly stopped. The liquid swirled around faster and faster but didn't notice it's surroundings until after the fact. A slow swirl continues, and I hope it will settle soon...
What is this unrest in me? I've been gone for half the year in a land that my roommates and I agreed to as "unreal". Its was not a real world. China was a fantasy, and I'm reeling from my descent high in the clouds to squarely back on Earth, smack dab into my previous life. It's my previous life yes, but with parts missing... like favor misplaced photographs, worn from repeated perusal. There's a haunting ache present, wishing everything would return until it feels whole again, until there's a restoration of what's mislaid.
I feel light headed, almost dizzy and I can't tell if its from locking my knees while standing (which I've done before, but I'm better at concentrating on not doing that these days) or realizing what's really out there totally makes my life seem small and insignificant. I'm breathless even looking at other places, realizing they are worlds away from my own tiny one, and it's all carrying on without me like its done for forever. This world of ours is so enormous. I feel as though the very idea of such enormity could just swallow me up. I would be consumed wholly, without a trace of me left.
Have I mentioned I dislike when phrases are set up to say certain things like; "for forever", or "that that", or "ascended into". The latter is impossible for me to say without me sounding like a two year old: asendddindo. Or like when words are purposefully misspelled like "kewl" or the ever popular hair salon trends of "split enz" or "unbeweavable" (true story).
Honestly, I really am irked by this total disregard for proper English. I feel like I'm being forced to say incorrect things, but they sound misleadingly correct. How sneaky is that?? I just feel so manipulated into speaking poor English.
There are two sides of doing travel research online; one you get loads of info about awesome places to see, gorgeous scenery and architecture to ogle, and people all over the world just waiting to make your much sought after acquaintance. On the other hand, it also dredges up everyone else's marvelous accomplishments from scaling snow clad mountains, seeing the northern lights to working with kids in orphanages and building homes for the needy in some distant land no one else is very willing to travel to. I see the mounds of awesomeness that others have achieved, going into space, training gorillas, inventing poo-to-carbon toilets and I have to feel a bit chagrined by my own seemingly small experience. Sure, I went to China which not a lot of people claim (or wish to claim), and I was a team member of a very upscale hotel chain. However, my part in keeping the success rates of this place going was minimal. My part was a minor contribution and thousand upon thousands of my peers* go all over the world and do the same kind of internship I do.
*Another word I don't especially care for. It seems presumptuous and pretentious, like my fellow college aged peoples will scoff and turn their noses up at being called "fellow college aged peoples". Maybe its shorter, but just because its short doesn't mean its better. Peers makes me think of scholarly journals, and of course quite "adult" people standing about saying, "Ye-es quite so, I concur with this particular statement of irrevocable fact...blad dee blah dee blah blah". Lets take it down a notch and go with people my age shall we? (Yes I'm aware this word applies to all age groups that one traverses through. Maybe when I'm at that especially "adult" part of my life, the word will become more palatable...I seriously doubt it though.)
I teeter between feeling rather proud of my experience, thinking "Ah me, look at what I've already accomplished at the ripe age of 23", then I see a picture of a smiling youth with their arms around impoverished children that they've been teaching, and probably donating their body parts too or something just because they are that giving. I'll admit a tiny harumph escapes me, and I totter to the ground thinking, "Well they just have it all planned out and if I had the money, I'd be doing the same thing". (Also I only have so many spare parts that I'm willing to part with...)
Oh and since the world did not end, I suppose this means I will continue occasional updates. I thought that once I returned to the States I would lose interest in posting any more blog blurbs, but I've found the process of writing out my mind's meanderings to be quite soothing and therapeutic. So forgive the frivolous nature of some posts, and keep in mind that I mainly write these for myself...you are an added bonus if you read and like it!
See? Even now I feel a sense of playfulness return, but I can't keep the lingering sadness completely at bay. Keeping a light tone is easy when an interaction is faceless, and I've found these updates to be quite freeing in a way that discussing them with family and friends could not be. What I've experienced is very singular to myself, a uniqueness that cannot, unfortunately, be passed on with story telling and pictures. I still feel China in my life, like a puzzle piece being slowly moved away, but the edge still holds the shape left behind. Now its just a quest to find a new piece, to shore up that edge lest it crack and crumble. Much like brownies or cake when a piece is cut away leaving the bare edge to dry! Too many similes. My apologies. I'm like a pandora's box of comparisons...
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