Saturday, October 17, 2009

you can't kill it with goodbye

I've learned something this past week.

People come and go. Places change. Friendships rearrange.

We grow up, we move on.

But the people who matter most will always come back.


Monday, October 5, 2009

this is no time to reminisce.

It's 10:15pm and I'm sitting in the library, "writing" a paper that is due tomorrow. I have 4 out of the 12 pages written. Productive night? Well it was, until this song started playing.

Closing time, time for you to go out, go out into the world.
Closing time, you don't have to go home but you can't stay here.
I know who I want to take me home. Take me home.

Suddenly I was back in the canc, picking myself up off the stained blue floor and throwing away the now empty cup that once held a mint oreo shake. The boys push open the doors and the cold winter air hits our faces and our eyes adjust to the darkness. The breeze pushes us back to our dorms as we laugh and yell at each other across the quad.

When the boys turn the corner on their way back to Merrill, us girls sprint back to Chipman, trying to beat the cold. We race up to the third floor, smiling and panting. By the time we make it back into our rooms and throw our jackets on our beds, the boys have made it online and the skype calls begin.

I should be thinking about Kierkegaard and the Inconsistent Triad, the story of Abraham and Isaac and whether or not one can go beyond faith. But instead I'd rather think of other things.

Playing Chinese Fire Drill in Vegas, climbing into the arms of an Indian statue and proceeding to break the five second rule, running through the kitchens of the canc, parking lot dance parties in St. George, pushing the emergency button on the hill, climbing snow covered mountains at 3am, chasing after deer, going to Walmart at 2am, running across 4 lanes of traffic in the dark, eating a fully cooked rotisserie chicken on the floor of Albertsons, pouring quarters into the Ultimate Bean Bag Shoppe at Denny’s, going to the dollar theater instead of going to class.


Screaming I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) at the top of our lungs as we raced down the freeway after another epic weekend. Eating Marshmallow Maties during Sunday School and drinking vitamin water at lunch. Staying up until 2am and going to class at 8am. Wasting gas and screaming in the middle of campus, laughing in the library and video chatting during PoliSci.

Remember the glances? The inside jokes? Remember how we had our own language, how we didn’t need anyone but each other. The smiles, the smirks. The never ending conversations and stories we couldn’t tell fast enough.

Eternity one break. Remember?