Inseparable Moments

"Innocence don't let me go"

Another day at work, a few hours to relax at the bar with some wine and my book and I am now here, at my desk allowing my thoughts and words to interrupt the packing that will eventually lead to my return home. 

As I laid articles of clothes, sheets, pillow covers, towels, and numerous of other things into a suitcase I began to find my thoughts trailing to a place that has left me feeling uncertain about my choice I have made. What if I am making the wrong decision? Am I taking a step back? Am I failing by going back home? Will things be the same? I began to question everything I was choosing until I laid down on my bed and allowed the music to just engross my mind. I called Andy. I haven't spoken to anyone really about my thoughts and feelings about moving, about leaving, about again living at home. Have I not made the effort to explain and tell people how I've been feeling or have people been unavailable? Whatever the case, I have found myself here, feeling this emotion as often as I breath.

I called Andy. I needed to spill my guts. Let it out. Cry out to someone that would understand, that would take the time to hear my worries and every concern that has enveloped my mind ever since this reality has begun creeping closer and closer. 

Each time I have opened up a suit case or pulled the cap off of a tub to fill with possessions that I have collected over the years, I have begun to feel more and more alone. I know that is all we ever are in this world, in the end we are always alone. Alone with ourselves, alone with our own thoughts, and merely surrounded by the people that pass through life. 

As Andy spoke to me and tried to put things into perspective for me, to try and help me look at the things that my tears were blurring, I began to think about everything I had packed, all the empty hangers that currently hang in my closet. It's not about the shirt I wore that one time I kissed him, the towel that felt best against my sunburned back, the journal that contains the contents and details of my life for the past four years, the socks, the shirts, the jeans, the dresses, the coats, the vests, the jewelry, the books and everything else that I have packed up. It is not about the papers that I wrote that had an A+, the videos that I create in my production courses or the photos that I have taken and framed. Whether I packed everything I had or not, it would not matter. Everything that I pack would not make a difference because everything I have that I will ever need, that I have learned, loved and cherished from these past four years are inside me, inseparable from me. They will forever be embedded in me. These things that I pack are merely just "paper and cloth" but in the end, what is their true significance? They are only items.

Writing truly makes me feel better. It allows time for my face to dry from my own tears and just a chance to write, to let it out. Ahh I feel a little better. Alright, so I will now go back to packing. I will let it be what it simply is, putting cloth and paper into a carrying case and will continue on with my night, because in 6 months, this too will have passed.

Everything.

So I sit here in my bed on June 5th, having to look at my phone because I have become lost in the summer days. Here I lay half way between drunk and sober and all I can think about and day dream about are my friends around the world that mean the world to me. Lindsay, Megan, Erin, Whitney, Troy and Scotty. My Europe friends that unwillingly and unknowingly changed my life forever. 

Lindsay, one of my roommates from Rome, who grew up in New Jersey came to visit Angela and I for a few days. With the spontaneity of our decision and quick plan to see each other again I was overwhelmed with excitement and happiness. Ang and I went to South Station in Boston to meet her, track 5 she said as I called her from the escalator of the T. We went outside and say her figure walk in through the sliding doors. I know it sounds so fairy tale like, but there she was, like a long lost friend that I hadn't seen in years. I wanted to cry, I wanted to jump up and down and I did, I cried inside for all the months I have missed her and everyone of my roommates. There she was, there we were, in the exact same place where we left off  - happiness. 

The past two days have been great. A time to catch up and once again enjoy each other's company. It wasn't until tonight, again our last night until she departs together, that we started revisiting the memories and adventures and laughs and cries we went through together. The little things we took for granted. The attempts at first unlocking our door, the closterphobic elevator, the first nights of eating together on our balcony, greeting Scotty and Troy at the door with appetizers. Every little moment that seemed so indifferent have suddenly come back to life. Tonight, sitting on that bar stool as we joked and reminisced about our memories, every little memory that I have thought about, that I have dreamed about, that I have wished for since I have come back were finally revisited. Finally I could talk to someone that knew the exact feeling that I went through. Finally I could talk to someone that knew exactly what we ALL have been going through. The struggle, the passion, the longing, the silents laughs, the random smiles as we all think about the memories we all have shared together.

Finally I have felt the chance to share that with my roommate again, maybe not all, but enough to bring that happiness and freedom back.

It was and has been everything I have ever wanted.