At Least

Back in Utah and single still and curious as ever and unaligned... I've been trying to write for a while now.

What is it this time, you ask?  It's Hunter.  It's Avery Taylor.  It's Jesus.  It's finding Katrina and then saying goodbye to Katrina, and then sitting at home a lot.  It's my new roommates.  It's Brittni having a boyfriend and not wanting to hang out with me all the time like we did in 7th grade, and also me not wanting to hang out all the time like we did in 7th grade.  It's not having any new ideas and being okay with not making movies and no female forum speakers and a lot of people being smarter than me and forgetting who directed Being John Malkovich and looking stupid in front of him for it. 

I've gotten caught up in another high school drama and it makes life all sparkly and exotic and I'm wondering how long it's going to last.  I've almost shed my bumbling and achingly dull 16 year old persona and am embracing being the bumbling and insipid 20 year old that I guess I always knew I was.  Still tripping over my drooping socks and telling my palms not to sweat, but I at least have a bag with foxes on it and that's cool sometimes.  

No, I haven't changed much.  

And yet I'm so different that I don't even know what to say about myself anymore.  I don't recognize myself.  I don't sing very often.  

I do, however, know a lot of fun facts about Disney World, though.  So there's that.

But here's the deal: things are happening in a way that is desirable and confusing and upsetting and HORRIBLE and WONDERFUL and I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING and it feels good to have something so exciting again.  It's glamorous, and we are glamorous, and we are giggly and we are secretive and we are fools for it.  We are damn fools and I'm so incredibly content with it all.  And I weep for the day when it ends, as we all know it will.  

But until then, I am going to let my heart race a little bit and I'm going to be late to class and I'm going to write 17 draft texts before sending the "right" one and I'm going to analyze conversations with Avery and hate myself because it feels good to be passionate and it feels wrong to run away.

I'm done running away from myself.

I guess I don't have much else to say now besides this: I've made a string of good decisions and one bad one and my ligaments are tearing and I'm happy.

At least I have that.

Goodbai Utah

Sorry for the long post.  If you don't want to read the whole thing, this is the summary:
This summer sucked but also didn't.  I love my friends.  I'm moving to Florida to work at Disney World.  I'm going to keep writing but probably not often.  Goodbye, I love you.

If you're reading this, I am already gone.  My summer ends a little bit earlier than I wanted it to this year.

I'm moving to Florida.

I'm going to work at Disney World.  I'm going to be stuck in a store.  I'm going to be hot and tired.  I'm going to be on my own.  I'm going to be a "real" adult.  I'm going to probably not blog very much.  I'm going to go out and make myself feel uncomfortable so other people don't think I'm depressed.  I'm doing this for myself, because I worry about my sanity.  I'm going because I want to.  And because I don't want to.  And because it's Disney World.  And because it's Florida.  And because someday there will come a time when I can't just pick up and move across the country and I don't want that day to come too soon.

I'm writing this because I'm almost 20 years old and I don't know how to fold a fitted sheet or do my own taxes, and those seem like things I should be able to do on my own by now.

I guess I'll figure it out.

I'm also saying goodbye to the people that I miss most.  Our legacies are written on the floorboards of the attic.  They'll be forgotten in the fire.  We'll be dust in a matter of seconds.  But I love you all.  And if I never see any of you again, thanks for being golden.

This summer was long and dull.  I worked full time.  I saw friends when I could.  I did something horrible.  And I didn't exercise at all.  I made out.  I became a new person, and somehow stayed exactly the same.  I watched a lot of TV.  And I ate a lot of food.

But it had its moments.  When Jonah and I blew all our money doing pointless things and then complained about blowing all our money on pointless things.  When Aubrey and I sat on her roof and watched the entire valley light up.  When Austin held me and told me about how he fell in love with a girl who vanished one day.  When we went to Fong's and didn't talk at all.  When Sarah showed me her movie collection.  When Aubrey and I both got food poisoning and spent a whole weekend in bed because of it.  When Shay and I drank pink milk and talked about preschool and being sorry.

And as the construction workers tear down the Haunted Forest and start building that car dealership, I'm waving goodbye to him and wishing him a great semester, and it just feels so over.

And just like that, the only place we've ever had all to ourselves belongs to someone else.

These days are gone, and they are golden.  They are wrapped in tin foil and packaged nicely in yearbooks and H.A.G.S. and Facebook posts that we thought were oh so clever.  These days are finally finally over.  And I will miss Austin's old man sense of humor and his folk music.  I will miss Aubrey's giant notebook full of songs we wanted to learn.  I will miss Cosette's awkward way of cheering me up.  I will miss the way Lex could figure out your whole deal in five minutes.  I will miss Creative Writing.  I will miss Michael who is now a douche even though I DISCOVERED HIM.  I will miss Griffin Kerr's blog.  I will miss Brynn's blog too.  I will miss that brown couch in Jonah's basement.   I will miss Baylee's awesome fashion sense and sassy comebacks.  I will miss Jeff's girl problems.  I will miss Asher's ease.  I will miss Lauren's conversation.  I will miss playing music.  And writing music.  And I will miss the optimistic, innocent, and ambitious girl I was.

I will miss it all.  Until one day I won't anymore.  

Life is unpredictable.  Even when you have a plane ticket and an appointment.  Even when the email gives you clear instructions on what to do when you arrive.  We are experiments.  We are fearful and blind and passionate.  We are each broken in our own beautiful way, and we are strong because of it.  We are love, and we are war, and we are hunger.  We are children.  And I love you, and all that you think you are or hope to be or will be someday.  Because you are you, and I am me, and we are one.

I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going, but I think I'll be alright.

Don't forget me.