Leave

I think I'm ready
to leave you behind.
(But I'm not ready


to be lonely yet.)

Here I am

Tonight, the plan for me was:
1. Ice cream with Hannah
2. Girls' alumni soccer game
3. Boys' alumni soccer game
4. Home.

What happened:
My family decided to go see Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World and it was really good. But I had to cancel with Hannah and I only saw the second half of the girls' game. Then I went to Hannah's house with her and Halle for margarita pizza and salad.
I never got to the boys' game. I thought about going and I would have rather shot myself in the foot. So, I said toodaloo to Hannah and Halle and got in the truck. I'd planned on going home, but I changed my mind, so I tried to find a place to park near the college to walk. But I wasn't sure if I was allowed because all the parking lot signs had these permit numbers on them.
I found a spot. And then I got back in the truck. I was on College Avenue, then I turned and drove straight for about maybe 20 minutes. I just drove until there were tunnels of trees and new street signs, windows open, oldies music playing.
Then I pulled into a driveway, turned around, and drove right back.
I sat for a while, then went to McDonalds to check Redbox movies. After that, I got a Slurpee, a huge one. After a few large gulps, I stared down at it.
Eating my feelings. Gulping them, in this case. I'm a girl who does that, turns her feelings to food. Then I wondered, what feelings am I gulping? What feelings deserve a Slurpee?! Clearly I have no clue. So I threw it away still full.
I went to the soccer field and ran a lap, which means I sprinted half, walked part, and then jogged to the truck.
Then I drove around and went home crying. I still don't know why. Long shower and two chick flicks. Here I am.

Life as of 8.14.10

I had to play lead snare in band yesterday, because Liz was gone. I shouldn't be lead next year, I can't play. I can't lead. I can't do freaking rimshots.
My friends are all busy, meaning that my sister and her BFF are on senior trip and my one other friend who it's not weird to hang out with is busy with tennis and her boyfriend and other activities.
Turns out that over summer, I lost my ability to squeeze into the jean size above the one I usually wear. How do I skip a whole size? I blame the cookies.
Since jean shopping clearly didn't work, I went for a little retail therapy of the shoe variety. Then I got some books and-surprise, surprise- ate until my breaking point. Literally until the point I felt sick.
Then I watched DH and ANTM and wondered to myself why all the shows I watch have acronyms.

Also, I haven't seen my sister in 8 days and I miss her. :(

Withdrawal

Okay, so I'm reading an article online about why breakups sucks worse than you think (Here). And I'm reading that you can actually experience withdrawal symptoms. I read through withdrawal symptoms. I had almost all of them. Not anymore, but a month or a few ago. So creepy.

Home

We came home yesterday. It was a day for tears.

I hugged Malcolm, Kenny, Kate, Carrie, Jo, and Zak goodbye. I would have hugged Matt, but he disappeared. :(

I got to the cabin, passing all of the cars with trunks open waiting to be filled with summer memories. I walked inside surrounded by boxes. I didn't know silence could be that suffocating.

Slowly, things emptied out and I laid down on the bare mattress.

I climbed in the backseat with Caitlin and we said goodbye to the place we escape to. Slowly, the 'Art Lives Here' signs disappeared. And we were just surrounded by sadness. At least I was.

It wasn't long before I started crying.

I kept seeing the look on Malcolm's face when we said goodbye. We'd had about 6 hugs and I must have looked really sad. Because when we said our last goodbyes, he looked at me. Then his eyebrows kind of furrowed and he let out a bit of a whimper, "Oh... You-"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Just... Give me one more hug," I said, trying not to cry and hugged him tight.

That look kept me awake.

I don't want to be here.

What's Appropriate

I hate it that I have to ask myself if I could get fired for making my friend a bracelet. Or that my sister has to ask me if it would be inappropriate to get our friend a Diet Coke because the machine is broken. Because I consider some campers my friends. And they consider me their friends. And what would be "inappropriate" anyway? A hug? Adding them on facebook? Telling them I'll miss them?
That's what I don't like about this job. I truely care about them and I feel proud of them and thank God they're good people. And I feel like a weirdo to feel any attachment to kids I've know less than a month. But we all have something in common and that is that we have to say goodbye to both the people and the place.

Tissue Paper

Have you ever seen your favourite camper dress as a girl and kick ass lipsynching I Need a Hero? Have you ever played on a Twister board made of chalk? Have you ever been disappointed when you hear girls are not, in fact, naked where you heard they would be? Have you ever wondered how you could have two lives so easily until it's time to leave one?
I have.
I'll miss so many people.

I hate wondering if I'll see everyone again. I hate making camp friends, because eventually you have to say goodbye and they could be as far as Tokyo.
Camp has so become my life. I have roughly 200 younger brothers and 30 older brothers this year. But that's just a guess.
I want to start hugging people now and not let go until Saturday. I want to keep them with me.

If I could wrap you weathered & cold in tissue paper like pressing flowers between bricks
I'd keep you.
My heart goes out to you.
- Elsa Taylor


I miss them already.