Oh internet peeps, whoever you are wherever you are, I do not know what to do.
Life is so very good. The other day I went on a very long hike that involved water streams, salamanders, waterfalls, and dear friends. Today my whole body aches but it is the good kind of ache. I have eaten so much good food. I’ve tasted Earl Grey Pie and I am a changed woman.
Life is on a speed-dial pause. We still haven’t heard back yet about the offer we made on a potential new home. But our apartment is emptying, yet filling up. It seems like the more things I take down and pack, the more boxes pile up all around our space. The lease will still end when it ends even though we’re in limbo. Also, Russell’s birthday is coming up and it’s weird to think that I’ve known this man since he was 20 and in a couple weeks he will be 26. But I swear, when we’re on the couch/car/bed together, time stops.
In a sense, it is the best of times, it is the worst of times. The best because anything can happen. The worse because anything can happen. I am very content yet sometimes I want more. I am happy most days but occasionally melancholy. I write then stop. I read then stop. I am either doing everything at once or nothing at all.
I want to decorate a home--to fill it with flowers and curtains and guests (and maybe, one day, babies). I also do not want any responsibilities. I want to grow old with Russ. I also want to stay this way forever with Russ. Want, want, want...it is just too easy to keep wanting.
I picked up my old journals the other day and felt a deep pang in my heart for the girl I used to be. Silly, too self-conscious, ambitious, shy, and everything I am still now but hopefully wiser by a teeny tiny bit. I am very sentimental. I think that’s how writers are like though--or actually any human being if they were just honest about it. I do not ever regret feeling too fully about anything. It is worth it.
Anyways, I ramble the last bit because I think it’s okay to feel the little bit of nagging yet welcomed melancholy. It forces me to reflect and write so that I can understand where it stems from. Right now, I think it stems from the speed-dial pause I am currently in life. Everything is speeding past except for the things I want to slow down. But then again, we can only get the good kind of aches in life when we force ourselves to climb the mountain. The view is so gosh-darn beautiful though. Salamanders and all.