This Doesn't Make Sense. But It's Perfect.

Apathetic schedules. Familiar faces. Mixed emotions. I'm back at school, it's my last semester, and as usual I'm trying to make sense of it all. But that's just it - I can't. Nothing will ever make sense. And the minute life does make sense - I hope I get thrown horribly off track and have to start all over again. It's not like a piece of Ikea furniture. Yellow futons have directions. There's no instruction manual for sense though. So don't try to make it. It just wastes the time you could've spent not making sense. And that's always more fun.

For me, I stopped trying to make sense the minute I hung up the phone.

I got a call yesterday from one of those friends. A friend that's pretty much always been in the picture and always will be. Longevity has us sewed together tighlty at the seams yet everytime we meet, we're of an entirely different outfit. She's a "home" friend, as my collegeiate circumstances allow me to propel. The tough part about going away to school, or even more so, leaving the country for a few months, is that the people you say goodbye to at the terminal aren't there to see you change. And then as time permits, you find them again, often right where you left them. Sometimes the change is clear, a dip in your step, a new shade of skin. But other times, it's nothing in your daily portrayal that's taken a twist; it's everything else. And when you have these "home" friends, it takes a lot more to make them see a new you. First impressions are heavier than most of us like to admit. My first impression with this girl lasted 13 years. Then we said goodbye to our everydays. In the three and a half years that have gone by, I've made more impressions on myself than I ever imagined. And so going back to the place where I began, the land of first impressions, "home"...there are times I wish I could shake off the past, and meet these people all over again.

I told her I loved to write a million times. Even more recently, I mentioned my blog. Initially the idea was met with rolling eyes. The exact response I thought someone that knew me would never have. But apparently somewhere in that conversation I convinced her to read it before she dismissed it. And yesterday, she called to say she loved it. That she thinks I should write a book about an old story I have up my sleeve. That she knows how well I could do. That she believed in me. And that's the only reason she called - because she just had to tell me that. I felt like that first impression had finally been shaken off - or at least given leeway to a new me. And to be honest, when you reach that point with someone you've known for so long - it feels like you're doing something right.


I'll be fine after college, I know I will. But sometimes I have to write it out loud for it to sink in.