Tomorrow I move to the University of Colorado to start the rest of my life.
Talk about fucking scary.
It's so hard to explain the sheer amount of feelings that are going through me, running through the backs of my arms and the pit of my stomach and the back of my neck and all those places where you aren't supposed to feel strong feelings but do when your body is a hodgepodge of emotion.
I mean, it's wonderful that I get to go there. And i love the fact that I get to live out my dream; theatre and pathology in a unity. I've been thinking about writing a play about it. But I'm not sure how I could deal with people actually reading it and hating ir or liking it or whatever. But anyway, I don't know anyone at CU. No one.
Not a soul.
I've corresponded with my room mate, but that is it. And it's frightening.
I have to work harder now, be more me... does that make any sense? In highschool everybody knew who I was and what I was about, they knew that I was funny and smart and loved vodka but hated gin (which reminde me of smokeandparisandliesanddeath) and laughed funny and smoked cloves and gave the best advice ever and kept secrets and orgainzed protests and loved animals and loved cutting up dead people and was ace at getting up on stage to be someone else and that I loved to sing and that I had a thing for older men and looked forward to seeing me in my new crazy clothes and giggled when I got on my political high horse and how much I loved tea and how being a veggie was painful for me and how much I hated words that were made by people who didn't truly believe in the English language and how I melt at accents and who my friends were; not to mess with them or i would mess with you and could read most of my moods and laughed at my worry and... well they loved me.
I don't want to work for people to love me. But I'm so worried that maybe that's what I will end up doing, working so hard for these new people to love me as much as KC love me; which I think is impossible.
It's just terrifying.
I'm starting to realize things that I never knew before; how much I love the people I left behind.
Boys who made me laugh
; made parts of me fall so desperately in love
with them that i will never really get those pieces back to call them my own again.
Boys who are my guilty pleasure; who I never knew I would ache
for, who i would compare every other male to, who gave me drinks and kisses and laughs and maybe their hearts but managed to creep into wrists
Girls who warmed my heart; made me realize how special they are if I just let my guard down and how I really can't live without them, can't live without the laughter
and the advice and the reality.
Girls who opened my eyes; made me believe in friendship again, who touched my hand
and held close and drove too fast and took part of my heart even though I fought it every step, girls who will ultimately shape the way I raise my children
People who changed my life; made me understand what love is
and how many shapes it can twist into without being able to feel the shifts.
They say that highschool friends fade away and maybe that is true, but I can not imagine forgetting or being forgotten. I know it will happen. But my memories are strong in my chest, like caged butterflies; waiting for their turn to spill out and graze eye lids and cheeks and belly's full of laughter.
I could write a million pages about each one of my friends. And I've been thinking about doing it; making sure I document every feeling I ever felt about them... but I'm afraid i will cling too closely, because they are the most amazing people I have ever met. No doubt. Too full of life and not empty of anything.
I'm not sure what I'm driving to tomorrow.
Or what I'll find when I get there.
But I promised myself I wouldn't cry too hard when I look behind me and not
see my constants in my review mirror. My voice breaks like a piano.
I love you