by Fallen Leaves on October 09, 2014
My spirits have undergone a drastic revolution. The statue of loneliness I had erected is being torched as we speak, torn down by a turn of fortunes. Oh, you say you got a real solution.
As I believe I mentioned in a previous entry, my friend dropped by last Sunday evening. He took me out for a complimentary sandwich (“Are you hungry? I know you don’t eat sometimes”) and a midnight discussion. “I’ve noticed things. You’re getting progressively worse. You seem to be falling apart. I can’t believe nobody else has paid attention to this. Are you okay?” We talked for two hours, hashing out basic things (“Oh man, they’re gonna last a month, then it will blow up in their face”) and not-so-basic things (“You can’t beat yourself up for your friend’s suicide. There’s no point. It wasn’t your fault).
From then on, I feel like things improved a little. If my behaviour was so blatantly desperate, and that reflected my inner turmoil, then it was time for a damn change. I don’t know if it was anything I specifically did, or a turn of circumstance.
On the weekend, I returned to the farm for my cousin’s wedding (I chose flying back for the wedding over flying home for Thanksgiving). Spending a cozy afternoon snuggled under a woolen blanket on a porch swing, sporting my father’s fluffy socks and with a little of month-old kittens on my lap – oh, it did me wonders. Nothing can revamp a person’s enthusiasm for life quite like being immersed in the comforts of your childhood home, especially when your childhood home is set in the secluded countryside and everything smells like earth. The silence of the country can put the wrong things in your heart back into their rightful place.
Of course, too, it was wonderful to spend time with my family. They’re good people. Going home is humbling. No matter how horribly wrong things may go here in the city, I have a place to escape to. Mom will make me a square meal, Dad will go to church on Sunday, and things will be as they always have been in my small town.
Another thing that undoubtedly ties to my drastic change of spirits – I met a boy. I will try my best to avoid mundane details (or, much more likely, the gushy garbage that I’m so inclined to write). A friend and co-worker at the restaurant said she had a friend for me and pointed him out one day on his walk to class. He came into the restaurant while I was working. I served him and found him to be delightful. He later got my number from my friend.
We went on a date last Wednesday, starting with a simple tea in a trendy café and ending at my city’s tourist hot-spot. The beauty, though, was that I brought him there in the middle of the night, when the orange lights shone off of the water and the horizon sparkled. We climbed up a structure, perched atop of it, and talked for an hour. Or two. I have no idea. He nervously admitted, “I’ve been thinking of the best way to kiss you… oh gosh, why did I say that, now this is awkward.” I laughed and kissed him first.
On Monday, we went for coffee before his choir practice. Afterwards, we watched a movie in my room and accidentally stayed up until 4am, kissing and laughing and talking. “I hope you know this is very strange for me,” I told him, “that I am not emotionally indifferent to you.” Sometimes he interrupts with an enormous smile. “What are you laughing at?” He shrugs and says, “My good fortune.”
A couple of campus friends have asked what I’m smiling about. As I relayed details to my former roommate, she jumped up and down like an excitable bird: “About time! Aghhhh it is so good to see you looking happy again!” My cheeks flush red.
When I put on Disney songs as a joke in his car, he knew the words better than I did.
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