It's over. It really is. I pinch myself, but things don't stop spinning. I'm convinced they just move faster. The place I called my home for the past 5 years is now a paged turned and a chapter ended. Bookmarked and dog-eared by tears and friends and smiles and failures. Perhaps even more-so highlighted by triumph and success.
It's not fair how fast change happens. It doesn't make sense how fast "fast" really is and how quickly time slips through your hands. Many have compared it to a grain of sand, but honestly, it seems that the specs of memories are even smaller and fall even faster. My life was turned upside down in the quickness of 2.5 hours on Saturday. It was a blur. I'm digging my fingers in to catch every moment. So here it is and here I am and so be it.
I was surprised with a cruise for graduation. I couldn't have asked for more. As I've grown into a psuedo-man (read mature NOT transexual, please) I have come to long for these moments where we are all together. We are spread throughout the states and so time together is seldom. We are so close knit though. Perhaps blood runs closer to the heart than distance and roadmaps. My family is a weird bunch, we tend to laugh for hours at a time, at nothing. We tend to talk for hours on end, about nothing and meaningless pondering of nothing. Most of all, we tend to love with no condition, forgetting the fears and failures and mishaps.
I stayed up until 3am talking with my brother about anger and death and boats and pain. I love talks like these and love the purity in them. Even though pain sometimes shines bright there are whispers of hope in the darkness. There is so much shit that we carry. Why do so many of us pile it on, walking through life half dead, or barely alive. So much hurt and happiness. We live, we learn. We often never pause to look back to see the cities built and homes destroyed. Often just paving the way of our heart thinking we are losing sight of the hurt. I'll share a quote:
"The building has always come easy - the creative, the words on napkins, the wild open doors. It's easy to always look ahead, to equate success with getting the hell away from where you started. If you're faster than whatever's chasing you, then you never have to pay attention to it. You tell yourself it's okay that the bridges burned. You didn't mean for it to happen, but maybe it's better - I mean, you're not going back, they can't go where you're going.
Or maybe those are lies. Maybe the constant motion is simply a man on the run, a man scared to death of standing still, a man scared to death of what he might find, or what might find him. And maybe the hero's dance is not the run across the burning bridge. Maybe the hero's dance is the pause and the turning to say 'This wasn't meant to burn.' Maybe the leader is the one who looks back and sees something worth fighting for."
I'm starting to believe the ocean is much like You. Rolling, thunderous and scary as hell. Constantly moving and filled with depth and death and life that I will never comprehend. Sometimes Your clouds cover you, only allowing slivers of the bright moon to shine through, then just like that You are filled with rage and nothing is to be seen. But You are there, somewhere.
I enjoy you.