migblog

if life were much easier, imagine everything you put effort into blossoming into something to the trip fantastic.

you see, life's full of these moments that want to boggle you, those that want to challenge you, those that make you rethink your principles, the ones that rock you to the core of your being that you want to shatter and cry.

often you cry because there's fear and sadness, but rarely, you cry because there's immense hope and joy. and when there is immense hope and joy, those are the moments you don't want anyone seeing because you're so vulnerable, so emotionally attached to those moments, that letting anyone else experience them would be a disservice to the amount of happiness they bring you.

despite speaking with a close friend of mine for simply forty-five minutes, i've remembered that innocence i had, that well-intentioned naivete that drove me to make friends with so many people. and i remembered, in that short span of time, that i had something good here, and that there are good, true people here in southern california, despite whatever it is i say.

i've visited my grandmother plenty and often through my stay here, and truth be told, it saddens me and frightens me that i might not see her in such good spirits nor in such great company like family. for the two and a half weeks i've been here, family's what's kept me sane and what's torn me apart inside. i've wanted to strangle people, and atthe same time, hug them so tightly because they don't know how much they mean to me, because i'm scared of that one moment of pure joy and hope -- that if it ever comes to fruition, that i'd be so scared and helpless and vulnerable to love and happiness.

maybe that's precisely why i've been calling jon everyday ever since i flew in; he's that comforting voice outside of this moment of southern california that makes me feel so welcomed and calm.

it's been a long time coming, but when all these little bubbles of everything get to you, you realize it's a little too late when it comes time to try and absolve things. i should know: i've been here two and a half weeks, and all i have to show for it is an overdraft fee and a plane ticket for saturday morning.

whenever i tell you nothing's that important, you remember that i'm excluding the most important part of that caveat -- that nothing's that important, except for when you reach that moment, and you fall in love all over again.

to friends, family, and a great new year.

posted by Open Source Food @ 8:15 PM