Friday, August 13, 2010
This Week
I miss writing. Writing for catharsis. Writing for exercise. Writing for the love of it. And I know people have come and gone. And have forgotten this blog. But for me it's like this little old notebook I keep in a box in my closet. I always know it's there. I take it out sometimes, flip at the pages, and laugh at my past frippery. And marvel at my mediocre writing skills that have now been reduced to writing patient histories and making diagrams on charts.
But tonight I write.
Today I went ahead with a crazy idea and downloaded Michelle Branch's whole discography as a solo artist. And I've been listening to her songs for the past few hours while trolling around the internet. But just right now I felt a deep pang of nostalgia and homesickness. I haven't felt this tinge in a long while.
Let me start at the beginning.
Cause when there's you I feel whole... And I'd rather be in love with you.
See? Michelle's quite the crooner. But I digress. Let me start over.
It happened a few weeks ago. But it's been there for years. Something I only liked from afar suddenly turned into this live thing. And it's been growing. Fast. And I'm loving every feeling. More. And more. Every minute. Every beep. Every random moment.
But somehow, it's different this time. In the past, I've wanted things for myself. But now. Now, I'm just happy to partake in something so beautiful. It's so akin to what I've wanted for years now it's exhilarating to be standing just inside its borders. And I'm content.
For now.
Or so I tell myself. But I fervently hope so. For everyone's sake.
And because I'm the kind of person who goes on looking, I found something. And discovered that what I have is more than I hoped for. What I've been trying to aspire for so long, but could just not be. And it makes me feel happy. And sad. And excited. Hopeful.
Nostalgic.
I miss my brothers. I miss them. So. God. Damn. Much.
I've been living away from home for more than half my life and the feeling hasn't really changed one bit. All this missing is hiding under a very thin sheet that every time something scrapes it, a raw nerve is hit. And I have to wait it out.
God, thank you for my friends. And my family. And love.