happened so fast It did, didn't it. It's been over a month since I've come home, and I've got just over a month till I go back. I'm not complaining either way though. It's been a brilliant holiday so far...french classes, lindy hop (finally convinced someone to go with me :D), dancing in a play, poetry slamming, found a writers' circle, relief teaching, poetry teaching, SINGFEST (STRANGLERS.SHAGGY.SUGARRAY.THESASHABACHBAND.CINDYLAUPER.PETSHOPBOYS. wish i could have gone for the second day); and on the horizon, possibly kickboxing and definitely Funeral for a Friend. In between I've managed to read...ohhh about 7 books, 4 of which are no where NEAR being on my reading list. But it's all good.
I love home. I love Cambridge too, though. The intensity of both loves worries me. If I end up being the kind of person who falls in love with every place she spends more than a month in, I'm gonna be rootedly screwed when it comes to deciding where I want to stay. And I want to stay SOMEWHERE. No nomadic lifestyle choice here, thanks. Might help if the boy has strong opinions...assuming there's a boy in the first place. Right now, just to clear things up, there isn't. Which is - really quite alright. And I surprise myself saying that, seeing as how it WASN'T quite alright just a couple of months ago. I really
don't seem to feel the need for another half at this point...I'm feeling quite whole as it is. Which is nice. I'm hoping it's not merely because I'm home and therefore helluva lot more secure. Hoping that maybe I've reached some kind of transcendental maturity, emotions wise ;) thinking that's probably quite unlikely and that when I go back to Cam it's all gonna start again. OhWell.
I've been doing a little soul-searching since coming home. Didn't really like the person I was becoming in Cam, didn't always like the things she was doing, was agreeing to do and beginning to enjoy doing. And the things she was surreptitiously choosing
not to do, even though she wanted to or felt she should. But things are pretty intense, and happen really fast. I never really got a chance to stop and think (though chances to cry over it I had ample), and question. I've decided the only person responsible is me. I guess my need for people too often took precedence over beliefs and behaviourial choices I should have made, or made clear. And when it comes to it, I'm for some reason strangely insecure there...and ok, fine Shane, naturally quite manja. Lack of affection rattles me. Which, I suppose, accounts for my emo-ness, and the generally annoying personality which was beginning to form. I think she was still around, the first couple of weeks home. But she's pretty much disappeared now, I hope...and the nicer results of being away from home are (also hopefully) beginning to show. Like a thicker skin, for example ;) Though still not as thick as it could be. Not sure if I want it any thicker, to be honest. People should realise words hurt, regardless of long-term intent.
The other bone I had to pick with me was the distance I was allowing to form between me and God. I'm not sure if allowing is the right word. Many times I deliberately turned away...guilt's not a nice feeling, and my reasoning went, the further away I am from God, the less guilt I'll feel, right? Well, right, to a point. 'cept I suppose it makes a difference when you
know He's still around, waiting patiently for you to come back to your senses. I do a lot of sulking in my prayers. Most prayers went something like.."I KNOW I shouldn't have. But it was so much easier to...and look, I'm here all alone. Alloooone. The least you could do was send me ONE person who'd understand. But nooooo. *sulk*" SomeoneWho'dUnderstand hasn't shown up yet...but I figure it's only a matter of time. And I got the reassuarance I needed from someone I really respect, here at home. It's so much easier to be Catholic, here. Going to Church isn't something you have to plan for, making the right decisions aren't really decisions at all, and, I feel, most essentially...there are Catholics too. Catholics who pray, who sing, who face problems and share them together. Who think, who read, who question, who believe. Who are there to love, and to advise, and to hug. Just...Catholics who are
there. I don't know what I would have done if I had come home, and the people I knew to be there just...weren't. In Cam I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle, if I'm fighting at all. Here...I'm part of an army. Which is...empowering, I guess. So while waiting for SomeoneWho'dUnderstand to show up, I'll just wait, and pray, and build.
Still there? Amazing. And if you've skipped the words, I'll summarize it for you.
I'm so glad I'm home. But I can't wait to go back, either. I miss the kids, I miss the place, I miss the books...I miss the learning. AND I want to take up modern dance, I want to start a poetry slam club, I want to start a weekly Ask-the-Priest thing in my room. I want to work on my diss (I could work on it now, really...I should, actually. But hey.), I want to keep writing poems, I want to write in literary journals. I want to punt, want to learn horseback riding, can't wait for the ski trip at the end of the year. I want to keep doing French and pick up Spanish, I want to win book prizes and travel grants and build an army.
And to top it all, I'm 21 in just over a month. No, I don't want any presents. I've got all I need. I've got the best friends, the best family, the best (the only, really) God...I don't need any presents. Just your laughter, your hugs, and your prayers. :)
I want to be that matchstick.
