Departure

My stomach hurts. Ok, so it doesn’t hurt, but it’s knotted and twisted and anxious and restless and it’s letting me know it. Until 20 seconds ago, I was worried. I wasn’t worried for my flight or my family, or even the year ahead. I was worried because up until that point, I wasn’t feeling anything. I was worried that an unemotional disposition was a bad omen. I was nervous, I’ll admit that. But I was expecting a huge emotional upheaval to consume me sometime before my flight. That can still happen. That probably will happen. But, at this point, the tears haven’t scorched my eyes, the memories haven’t flooded my mind and the “what if’s” haven’t danced off my tongue.

20 seconds ago I got an e-mail. It wasn’t much. Its Courier New font made it remarkably ordinary. But within its words and spaces was a message of friendship, excitement and possibility. I found out that there might be people from my program on my connecting flight. Finding that out jumpstarted the excitement, and I’m relieved and somewhat excited to feel it.

Of course, with about 5 hours until I leave the house, I’m realizing how much I love this place. I speak generally of “this place,” but take it to mean what you want, because it probably means “wherever you are.” Home is what I’ll miss, and you’re a big part of it. But since I’m leaving during the summer, I’m going to miss these things a lot:

-Hadley
-Picking berries
-Running at odd hours
-Docks
-Bon fires
-Jumping off of things

I’m not going to miss these things at all:

-Working at 5 a.m.
-Sunburns
-Mostly cloudy days
-Flaky people

Getting back to everything, I’ll tell you a story: I left Target last week like I normally do- angry because people don’t know how to use the roundabouts, but as I crossed the overpass and leaned into the second roundabout, I didn’t turn off to hit the freeway, I made a full circle, and I went back up to Target, and I went through two more roundabouts, and then I went through the Harbor. I almost cried. I could tell you that I did, and it would be a better story, but I didn’t. But I wanted to. I wanted the beautiful view to be clouded by tears. It would have made for a very memorable moment, as if the Harbor with its sailboats and their masts weren’t memorable enough. As if every smile and hug and picture from that place weren’t memorable enough.

I’m going to miss both of my homes, Humboldt included. Humboldt is the only college home I’ve known. It was my first step into adulthood, and to know that I get to go back to that place after this journey is over is reassuring and comforting.

Summary: I’m nowhere near being emotionally prepared, but I feel like with these things, there’s not really a solid way to get to that place. So what’s the next step? Wake up. It always is and always will be the next step.


“You don’t need to give up yourself to belong or fit in. Make the world yours… Dare to walk the path that is right for you” – Patty Ley