there are words and dreams and fears i keep to myself; disguised but not invisible, a vault of bashful yet lustily emoutions, and desires so sincere; so tender, so very subtle in their intensity. i guard their exposure because i should; because i ought to; because i'm afraid of their potential and actuality-paranoid of percieved niavity and assumption, but to share; to not just tell you stories, i know i must lift the veil and reveal my introspective qualities, just a little.
sunday morning i watched jon pull out of the drive way. moments before we were hugging-me crying and him consoling with gentle words. i thought that because of all the farewells i have recently endured i was prepared for this one, but i wasn't...at all. and despite that i knew this move was and is right for him-was and is an awesome experience, the fact that my live-in close friend was moving so far away, disabled me from hiding my secret-selfish-sadness from rolling down my cheeks.
it seems silly-something to be embarrased about, like trying to properly roll a r your first time in french class, when it's not-it's just the way in which i articulate, so very american-so very intense when it comes to those i love; becoming so very affected when one that i love is no longer in hugs reach; no longer waiting for me to get off work to watch a movie with or to go running with; no longer able to read a book while he plays computer games or she re-organizes her room, for the twentieth time that week. but their are friends: people. and this may not be something everyone can understand but it's something i know my sister does-the feeling of being alone when your not. and then the feeling of being perfectly content and happy and understood because your with that one person that gets you, that you can sit next to in a car with, and not speak a damn word for the entire distance in between point a and point b.
lately i've been listening to alot of sigur ros. it's been incessantly raining in tumultuous sheets, day and night. i've been reading the paper from front to back- religious about completing both crossword puzzles in it. there's the quelling rhythm of the storms and then there's just too much silence, not actual silence, but an internal hush brought on with the new void.
i'll stop and evalute. i'll think about how cool it is that all my friends are out and about living their lifes to the fullest. this makes me happy...no giddy, truely giddy. i contribute a part of this to me, because i'm like that; self-appraising ,contradictive, and encouraging. true i've allowed myself to indulge in this self-loathing but then it is also true that i've relentlessly encouraged each and every one of my friends to follow, whole heartdly, his or her dreams; cursing when i hear talk of giving up.
assuming is something i restrain myself from doing-i speculate, i hypothesis, i wonder but hardly ever do i assume (unless of course by not assuming i should be caught niave or foolish or pestimistic). but usually, for the most part, i don't. ecspecially when it comes to that which pertains to the future. this is a blessing and on it's flip side, it is a curse. i aim to be realistic but moreso, i aim to be optomistic. so here in 'the reality', i wonder and speculate and hypotheis what his move should mean and will mean.
and then, most off all, it boils downs to the fact that i miss him, more than i imagened i would; more than i know i should.
saturday night, jon and i went to the old monk for one more bon-voyage celebration. i took lots of pictures, drank lots of pink elephant beer, watched as hugs were exchanged, but i wouldn't let myself take the moment in, just too surreal.
because i don't have a computer, this post has taken me days to finish. a little here and little there. today is actually wednesday. i've spoken to jon a few different times as well as this morning. today he's somewhere in bewtween snow peaked mountains and the clouds. i haven't heard him be so chatty since i first met him over two years ago. he's obviously happy and it's beautiful...it's great.
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