{via}
There are Testoderm coffee cups and a spray bottle of Febreze in an awful scent on the windowsill in our bathroom. Somehow this perfectly describes our suite and the people that live here and come to hang out. Not that we are impotent, smelly people. Nah, we are just weird. And slapshod. And made of everything needed to keep going on. Or just weird.
Today I said goodbye and hello. Is it odd to say that I have found a new definition of Tarzan's "Two worlds, one family"? Because I have. Pain in leaving one behind is joy in greeting another. I know that I am only two hours away. That I could hop on an Amtrak and be home before dinner. But it doesn't work that way. I have a life here, and it consists of tests and papers and readings and remembering to shower and Testoderm coffee cups.
This is something I have to get used to . . . this letting go. It sounds ridiculous, but when I leave people for long periods of time, I catch them walking in strangers. Talk about them to friends that are here now. Wonder if they're worried. I think social media makes it worse as well as better; possible to talk but never touch. But at least we can talk. And Facebook. And text and email and tweet and Pinterest and Tumblr and YouTube and Snapchat and Facetime. That's something other generations never got. An I love you with a click.
Sending all my 'I love you's from Chapel Hill to the people in Mooresville with clicking the 'Publish' button on this post. All my love from the windowsill and the Febreze and the Testoderm coffee cups.
With love,
Laney
No comments:
Post a Comment