Hey y'all,
alright. I'm packed. My junk (or most of it) is in the car. i head out for KC one last time, and then, on Wednesday it's back to the west. Oh boy.
This semester I'm a storm of swirling mixed feelings about going to Idaho. With my sister-in-law pregnant, and several siblings leaving Utah for MO, I find a lot of the things I look forward to growing more distant. I'm determined to make more friends, so that I won't be lonely or homesick, but I can't but feel a bit skeptical. As a family, we fight with eachother more than anyone else. But at the same time we understand eachother better, communicate better, and enjoy the same things more than anyone else. i'm just gonna have to drug myself with the company of other people to numb the ache of being away from them. It's not like I'm joined at the hip to my siblings, inseperable and what not. But what am I going to do for the 4th of July this year? I'm not one who enjoys talking on the phone a lot, so when am I going to talk to them? Oh well. I just wish I could get a week or two off when the baby comes so that I could be there. I really want to be there!!!!!!!!!!
It's late. I'm tired. And funnily enough, with as much as I'm dwelling on my family and being with them, right now, at this moment, I want to get away from them. I want some fresh air. Fresh people. Fresh atmosphere. Here, I'll describe to you what I'm picturing, and how I feel right now.
Picture a late, summer evening. The sunset is almost faded and the sky is a deep, velvety indigo. There are millions of stars in the sky, like holes in the cieling of heaven where the sunshines through. I'm laying on my back on a wooden dock. One of those old fasioned ones that has unpainted wooden planks that go out to two wooden posts poking out of the water. The water is still-ish. Gentle, laping waves, and those rippling rings all over from where the water bugs skitter across the surface. The sky and dying sunset are reflected on the deep, black and indigo face of the water, like a mirror. All around me are tall, pale, thick-bladed grasses. They grow right up to the sides of the dock, shielding me in from the outside world; completely surrounding the small pond like a secluded world of it's own. There are water lilies and chirping frogs. And a gentle, warm, humid breeze that floats by, sending the grasses into churning cacophonies and swaying sillohettes. Someone half sits, half lays beside me. My hands are folded behind my head and I'm staring into the sky, looking, but not really seeing. Beside me my friend, whether boy or girl I can't exactly identify but it doesn't really matter, reclines of their elbows, with one leg straight, and the other bent. We're talking, lazily. We have a pitcher of white grape juice and two cups that we sip form occassionally, contentedly. I feel so relaxed. So free. I feel so secure. Like I wouldn't have any qualms if I just drifted off to sleep there and lay there, serene and defensless in the open night air. I don't know exactly what we're talking about. Heaven? Italy? Books? My story? Philosophy? Everything? Anything? Maybe even nonsense. There are no city sounds, no cars, no other voices. I can vaguely see a small skiff, lodged in the grasses somewhere nearby. I'm laying on a small persian rug, with a row of tassles on one end. It feels like we could be anywhere, during any time period. The air is thick with an orchestra of night sounds. From crickets to frogs to even a whipper will or two.
Yes, tonight this is where I want to be. At least for a few hours. A few, peaceful, dew speckled hours. Just long enough to forget the rest of the world exists. Just long enough to detatch myself and be myself uncomplicated. I would say that I'd wish that whoever is with me could be a guy, but there's no face, so I can't really picture it too well. I could just as soon be all alone. Only, I wish someone was there with me. Anyone. A friend. That would be nice.
I guess this is good night everyone. Let's not make tonight too complicated, ok? Try, just please try to spend one night simply being, and then we'll all get up tomorrow and go on with our lives and never say a word. Just... think. Just lay there and look at the cieling and (hum?). Or if you have a piano, play something soft and slow and sunny. Like an early early summer morning.
Can't we let tomorrow be tomorrow?
Love,
Kate
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