Wandering for Words

I feel bad that I haven't written to you lately. It's not that I don't miss you, I actually think about you often and I hope you know that I am trying my best to tell you about all the thoughts I've been thinking. I've tried to write to you more than once, but everything I've written, I don't like. It feels inauthentic, or choppy, or pointless and I give up. And if you're going to spend a part of your lunch break reading my silly blog that brings some form of meaning to me in my life, I just want it to be worth your time too. 

When my writings have failed, I spend my time wandering around- visiting areas I’ve only driven past, walking along the river, and taking photos of things I find compelling.

I chose to be in Minneapolis because I like the cities. And I like how they make me feel both really significant and really small at the same time. I think being surrounded by people is really good for me, and that there's always something important happening nearby, which makes me feel like I am contributing to something bigger than myself.  

Sometimes I wander because my “new” place still feels a bit foreign. Like I am staying at my aunt Stacy's house again while my parents go on their biennial trip to Jamaica. And I've done all the things you're supposed to do to make a space feel more like a “home”. I’ve hung all the pictures of friends that hold happy memories, and tape quotes from movies or books that I admire,  and I put up twinkly lights where the walls meet the ceiling and I even framed my diplomas above my desk. But there are still 4 walls that don't know the sound of my friends' laughter during bible study, 4 walls that didn't watch me struggle through countless nights of graduate school, 4 walls that didn’t watch the scars on my face heal while I slept for months after the car accident, and 4 walls that have never felt my love for Christmas through paper snowflakes, cheap tinsel and cookie bakes.

 I know that time might make things feel different but right now I don't always like the way the hallway smells like smoke, and it startles me when I hear tires screech outside. And I really hope that I can figure out how the package delivery system works here.

So sometimes when I think about stuff like that for too long I try to play my guitar, or I make something, or force myself to interact with the world around me through wandering around. And when I do, I try really really hard to think of the words I need in order to help you understand what it is I have been feeling lately and the things I can't stop ruminating about. And although I am not good at talking about it, whenever you read about the fragments I can describe, I feel better.

But this is hard to do when I don't really understand it myself, and I am starting to think that maybe there are specific times when words don't always exist in the ways that we need them to. 

And as I wander about I realize I do really enjoy waving to my neighbor who smokes on the corner every morning, and occasionally calls me sweetheart in mid conversation. Reminding me that some people find a form of innocence in my candor, despite the way life has treated me lately. And I admire all the people I pass who have a much better sense of fashion and confidence than myself, and I find it fun to smile at old dogs, friendly faces and cute babies in strollers. 

So, for right now, I do my best to hold on to all the small and good interactions I gain from being where I am. And I think that maybe putting up a Christmas tree in September wouldn’t be the worst idea I’ve ever had.

& I know that your twenties are a time of learning and messing up and being broke and making mistakes, but sometimes it feels like all of this confusion that comes with life, makes a lot more sense to everyone else. Like everyone else is on script and I can never remember my lines, or there's a joke that everyone else is in on and somehow I missed the punch line. Tragedy, and trauma and the heartbreaks of this world are much lighter if they make some sort of sense. And lately nothing has made sense. And I’m working really hard to do the things I am supposed to and I make the lists and check things off. But no matter how hard I squint or how much I tilt my head I’m still struggling to see it all clearly.

And I know I can be neurotic, and overthink things, and maybe take feelings for truth too much of the time, but I just want you to know that I am trying. That I wish my words weren't so choppy, and that I’m sorry you spent time reading this when I know your lunch break might be over soon and I wish I had something more to leave you with. But there's no one liners that makes sense of this one.

No idioms or similes or metaphors that can make sense of what it is that I feel, no words to help mend the divide between myself, this screen and you.

I guess maybe you were the silver lining in this one. 

This sacred moment of one human desperately trying to connect with the another, while the other so graciously allows this attempt.  And for this I am thankful.

Thank you for reading and not caring about my grammar or correcting my spelling. Thank you for not rolling your eyes when I write too much about feelings instead of logic. For sitting with me, and not saying anything at all. For all the belief you have in me, and whatever it is that I choose to do. Thanks for letting me not make sense, and asking questions- but only to understand and to not judge. Thanks for all the ways in which you’ve given me a space to wander, and roam, and fail and feel. And thanks for spending 3 minutes of your precious 30 minute lunch break with me.

 I don't want you to spend too much time reading anymore, because I think I am about out of words again. 

So I guess I just need you to know that as we wander, I really hope our paths continue to cross. And I hope we get to smile at one another as we pass by, much like we are right now. And I will keep trying to find the words, as long as you continue to meet me here. And maybe for the moment we can just be humans alongside one another, existing without the limitations of words but the comfort of companionship. And maybe that's what this whole thing is supposed to be about anyway.