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When I'm Grieving

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Apr. 29th, 2001 | 10:43 pm
mood: thoughtfulthoughtful
music: Matchbox Twenty - If You're Gone

I am procrastinating. Shame on me.

That said, it is time for me to discuss the enormous swirl of thoughts that I am having.

The year is coming to a close. My roommates walls are bare, the common room is full of boxes. Everyone is getting ready to move out. Me... I'm deciding I have things I definitely need to ship home because I just have too much stuff here and it's bothering me. Of course, I'll ship half of it home and then decide that I need it again and bring it back with me after I go home for a couple weeks.

Home. It's weird. I still refer to Minnesota as "home" but it's more a term of convenience than anything else. Because it's not my home. I left high school and I left all of it behind me in my dust. I have recreated myself here. I am still a similar person, in terms of interests and personality, but college has been full of new friends, new faces, new... everything, I suppose. It's strange. I feel like my family is here. The people who I love are here... for the first time in my life, I have an active social life, and I don't want to leave it. It is a strange realization to realize that you have left home and you can't ever really go back there because it is never going to be the same. I admire the people who do still practically live at home in college, who look forward to going home. Because I'm not looking forward to it. I'm dreading it.

I would say I'm sinking into a pit of depression, but it's not depression. The tears that are welling in my eyes are tears from frustration, from knowing that whatever I do in Writing Workshop, it will not be good enough for an A because I do not think properly, and the hole in my heart is stemming from the knowledge that in two weeks I will be going home for two weeks and that I am looking to those weeks with dread... weeks in which I will be separated from what is dear to me.

It is all very strange, this feeling that you can never really go home again. That you have left an entire life behind you, and though there are people from that life who you still hold on to in a way, you can never really go back to it. Also, it is strange that the people from that life seem to hold on to you more than you hold on to them.

I have no idea what my point was.

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