"And in the middle of the flood I felt my worth when you held onto me like I was your little life raft, please know that you were mine as well"
The past couple of weeks have been pretty surreal for me. It's like nothing even happened, yet I'm sitting at home with evidence that yes, it all very much did happen and I had a rockin' good time. I have three bracelets on my right wrist that I still refuse to take off, simply because they are the wrist bands that I needed to have to get me into the Dot to Dot festival that was in Bristol, my final third year summer ball and the epic final bop where a lot of ugly crying went down.
I know it's silly, but I just can't bring myself to cut them off and stow them away in one of the many memory shoe boxes underneath my bed. Not yet.
After Mel and I finally made it back home, I spent the first couple of days cleaning, unpacking, organizing and sorting things out so that I was properly all settled in. It gave me something to do and I thought that unpacking everything and meshing it all together with my other things that have patiently been waiting for me here at home would finally switch something on in my head to make me realize that I'm back for the long haul. This is not simply a summer vacation break for me. I'm here now. I'm back now. And I don't exactly have a plan of where I need/should be going.
That didn't really work and instead I was just pleased that everything wasn't in shambles anymore.
Once all the cleaning and organizing was finished, I parked myself in my room for the next couple of days and caught up on all of the latest Hills episodes. Nothing really says "move on" and is semi-relatable to people in their twenties (with millions of dollars at their disposal) quite like The Hills. I mean, Lauren is moving on, Whitney moved on to New York and Lo....well, Lo is just there to look cute and adorable.
I hate to admit this, because it is kind of embarrassing, but I did get a little teary-eyed at one of the episodes where Audrina and Lauren make up and become friends again. That was touching.
But I didn't have a full on ugly cry like I know I need to do.
Once I caught up on all of The Hills, I went over to Mendy's house that I've hardly seen since I've been away, for some birthday festivities at her new apartment with her husband (as if I have a real married friend now). She had invited loads of friends and family over to celebrate, and as happy as I was to see her and catch up, I wasn't exactly in a very group social mood. It was all a bit too much for me to handle so I decided to leave around 11 o'clock and drive back home listening to Camera Obscura in the dark driving the empty roads.
Her one song, "Country Mile," made me get a little misty-eyed but nothing else. I told myself I couldn't have the ugly cry in the car when I was tired and driving. It simply wasn't safe.
Since then I've pretty much been doing nothing. I've been catching up on a lot of sleep, yet I still wake up around six o'clock in the morning and wonder what I'm going to be doing for the next sixteen hours. I've been reading more, which is nice, and catching up on books that I never read/finished reading while I was at uni. I've gone out to run a few errands for Momma and have eaten out at a few of my favorite places.
But otherwise, not much else.
You would think that now I have the time, I'd be thinking more. I should be thinking more about reality and the future and what I should/could/need to be doing in order to take the next steps towards the next life chapter and all that crap. But I haven't really. I'm in a strange haze where I just wander around aimlessly without any kind of attachment as to what's happening around me. I daydream a lot. I fantasize about my pretend future that I know will never happen, yet I still like to roll around in my sick hallucinations. I have looked at so many pictures on facebook from the last weeks of university so many times I'm surprised Bridget hasn't blown up. And I relive my last memories of a life that I've known and have gotten used to, but now that I've left.
When I was still in London, caught up in the busy social events or sitting out on Digby lawn soaking up the rare English rays, I told myself that I wouldn't let myself feel too much of the sadness because I wanted to enjoy my last weeks to the fullest instead of sitting in a puddle of tears and snot from all of my crying. I wanted my last memories to be happy, with all of us laughing and being completely in the moment knowing that we might never get a chance to be like this ever again. Absolutely carefree without one worry in the world. There was no point in dwelling on what was coming when it was out of our control. So every time I felt tears welling up in my eyes, I immediately thought of something else and shoved it aside.
I love how we didn't really acknowledge fully the situation that was at hand. Whenever somebody left, we just treated it like we would see them in a few weeks time. I gave them all a hug and kiss on the cheek and told them I loved them as they walked out the door. I don't think it felt real to any of us. It still doesn't feel real to me.
I know eventually I'm going to need to accept the fact that I am back in Virginia and I won't be leaving anytime soon. I know in time I'm going to have to mentally leave London, rejoin reality and get back on board here so I can start doing adult things once again. Even though I've come back home, it doesn't feel as natural as it did whenever I was back at Christmas or summer. I feel like I've come back changed and everything here is the same as I left it.
But for the time being I want to sit a little while longer. Like I said, I'm not ready to cut the wrist bands off just yet.