We never did too much talkin' anyway

I don't even know how to start to explain exactly what I'm feeling right now. The only way I know how to describe it is just this nervous weirdness. I've never done this before- I've never seen almost everything I own packed up in cardboard boxes. I've never not come home. I'm not too worried, but my thoughts just keep racing. There's so much I can't express right now because my mind is going too fast. I keep replaying memories in my head and looking back way too much for my own good. I'm remembering faces and times I don't know how to live without yet, but it's gonna be okay. It has to be okay, right? If anything, I should feel exhilarated at all the newness and fresh scenery and people and go confidently knowing that I am in no way trying to make relationships that replace the ones I currently have. I want to meet new people but never forget or lose touch with the old and I really don't want "staying in touch" to become a cliche phrase. I will honestly miss my bed, my parents and Maggie more than I can think about right now. I'll miss home tangibly and the home that I've made nestled in between a few fantastic friends that truly redefine the word "blessing".

It's 3 AM and of course I can't sleep. I've done this off-to-college-farewell twice before, but never exactly like this. The first time, I hugged two girls that adopted me like a sister sophomore year and promised myself I wouldn't cry until I got out of the car and into my room and I could listen to Ella to soothe me. The second time was, well, a memory that never seems to fade of a couple dozen forehead kisses and running out into the rain early the next morning to get a present left for me bittersweetly. But, you know, I don't think there will be a cd on my windshield and a rainy emotional breakdown-scene happening like the last time. This time it's me leaving and it's not poignant, really, it's just straining and too much and almost uncomfortable at times, like I wish it was just over already. But, on the other hand, I'm a sucker for holding on just a little bit longer. I wish the word "goodbye" took a lot longer to say out loud than it did many times earlier today.


It's going to be alright.
It's going to be better than alright.
It's going to be good.
It's going to be wonderful?
...That last one's a pretty strong adjective. We'll have to wait and see.


You know, I'm not the world's biggest Bob Dylan fan. I understand why he was important and how he revolutionized music and I strongly believe he was essential in a sense. But I find myself struggling to really dig into his music and actually feel something. But for some reason, one of these tracks just cuts into me, you know? It makes sense why it does- it's thick with emotion and this sense that he's looking over his shoulder, but he's leaving regardless. I'd heard it before it was given to me on a cd, but it affected me a whole lot more once I heard it in a certain order. It was probably intentional and the lyrics are blunt enough to burn and stick with me for quite a long time after the harmonica solo. It makes sense that I'd come back to it right about now, this exact same time, whether it's healthy to hold onto it or not. Ha, and I though Dylan could hardly make me feel something, much less tear up? Wrong again.