I loved your memo, btw...

''It's not a memo, it's a mission statement.''

Sunday, August 05, 2007

What I miss about college...

I miss those rainy days, when it turned suddenly windy, cold and gloomy. Then it started to sprinkle and I would run from my townhouse to the old library that smelled like mildew and musty pages. First, to stay dry for a few minutes, I would cross through the Creative Arts building, which I knew so well from having most classes there. It always felt warm and smelled like old, dusty props.

I liked to claim a four-floor desk, hidden between columns of books no one ever checked out, and stare out the window pane of the people below me. I'll try to open a book and study, eventually dazing out and running my pencil along the carved graffitti etched within the surface of the wooden desk.

Who was here before me? I wonder. Was it someone just like me? Trying to find his/her place? Wondering why they were sitting here studying? Not sure what they were absorbing in their mind... How old were these desks? If these books could talk, what would they say.

Every so often, a noise would startle me and I would realize I wasn't alone on a weekend day all the way up here. I peer through the spaces between books and wonder who the people I could see were. Did they share my same interests? Did they want to get away from it all too? Who were they? The best and worst thing about a library is it unifies people under the same roof, but they are expected not to engage in conversation. It's not encouraged to go talk with someone who you don't know who might be studying for a big exam. Definitely not a meet-cute place.

So gather my belongings when the sound alerts us the place is closing.

..

I miss days when I would make plans for myself, not having anyone's expectating me returning home at a certain time or to question where I went. I'll just take my things, leave and spend however long or short out in the city. I'll explore places and admire things. I'll buy a drink here or a grilled sandwich there...

I miss that. I miss walking along the gloomy pier and watching the seagulls. I didn't have to wait for anyone. I'll go as far to say as I ceased human communication unless I was talked to. Then I would be polite, without inviting conversation. I'll step up the escalator, pay for my ticket and sit in the darken movie theater. Surrounded by people, but alone. No stress. Just me. I loved it.

..

No matter how much I miss that, I miss warmth and familiarity of having someone to be there for me, with me. It's too lonely and miserable at times. If I had someone with me, I may not be able to experience everything I wanted to without differences... but I would be experiencing things with a different perspective. You would stimulate conversation, ideas and discussion. I would be seeing new things with you and I probably wouldn't care about the things I missed out on.

Sometimes, not always, it's about who you experience things with and not what. I'm not selfless enough to say that is always the case. I love doing things by myself too much.

If I could only have one choice, I don't think I could choose.

I usually make these entries private, but I have so much written in scrambles hidden away that I feel like I want this to be out there. It's not who reads this, but that it is out there. A part of me, opened.

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