Fast and far

I need to get something out, but I don't know what.  I don't think the thin pages of my journal could hold the weight of all these thoughts and all these feelings.  God, Sufjan Stevens just came on my shuffle and I am so grateful because at least the air is a little lighter.  The thing is, I'm not bad.  I'm okay.  But I'm lonely. And I haven't been lonely in years.  3 years.  It scares me a little to think that I thought I was so independent, because I have been leaning on people a lot more than I believed.

Folsom has become a ghost town to me.  My three rocks in this town are not here any more.  The effect of their departures is starting to sink me, slightly.  I find myself wandering... listlessly.  I never thought I'd feel like I was getting an undesired fresh start, and I certainly didn't think it would be here, in Folsom, where things are always eerily comfortable and readily-available.  I feel like someone pushed a giant RESET button on my life and suddenly, everything I've been working towards and building has plummeted into some unrecoverable abyss.  Everything is blank.  My home was never Folsom- it was my people.  And my people are gone.  And Folsom doesn't feel like an embrace any more.

The thing that worries me the most is I feel like this is life telling me that it's time for a fresh start, whether it's a convenient time for me or not.  All the relationships which have structured my life, I have lost, at my fault, or the fault of the process of life just moving and turning, folding and unfolding.  I am free of a lot of things- even freedom... in some parts.  This is my chance for the New.  I'm realizing, so strongly, that I don't want my fresh start to be here.  I wanted it when I wanted it- the beginning of the next year, when everything was simple and comfortable and progressive and sensical.  But life isn't a well-made bed; my sheets are a tangle.

So, Now, rather, begs the question.  Lindsay, what do you REALLY want?  With all this time and space, I'm hearing my own voice much louder and much more clearly.  I'm more grateful for an ear.  I'm more in touch, with everything.  But I'm terrified of this, because, already, I have isolated myself and am becoming a hermit inside of myself.  And my dreams are dreams alone.  And the future I'm building up in my mind is not the one I've been scribbling in my journal- it's more gritty and risky, because I can't stay here, like this.

I'm lonely.  I miss my best friends.  I miss feeling embedded.  I miss dreaming with people.  I miss feeling at the tip of existance.  I miss good hugs.  Good talks.  Good things.  I am so blessed and have been so blessed.  Suddenly, all the trivialities of the drama that has structured the last year, is humbled by the reality that the loss and heartbreak of losing pure, good friendships... is so much more than what I thought was important.  I'd give most anything to be back on that beach that day.  When things were light and nothing felt fleeting.  I'm afraid I'll run.  Fast and far.