neither here nor there

It wasn't exactly a dramatic parting, instead, an abbreviated "good bye" in the unlit kitchen. A hapless white-knuckle hug that I knew couldn't keep him. I love you. Then the door, and his headlights, and the dark replacing the space where he had parked.

It's been too long since I've been here, but when you try to stockpile two month's time into a week it consumes you slightly. And now he's gone [again], but I'm learning how to fair the distance [with hopeful grace]. We celebrated Valentine's Day a month early, and my birthday a couple of weeks in advance, and really, two months is so short in comparison to many things.

It's funny how quickly you can remodel perspective...

This is just how they live, our soldiers, and us other halves of them. It's a different world and one I never imagined I would willingly be a part of [until I met him]. It's not that my heart doesn't ache knowing that he's away, but I'm different, we're different than we were in October. I understand his passion. I'm getting to a place where something of the whole makes sense.

My life goes on and his life goes on because they must and will regardless of time or place. Though there were/are/will be tears, my heart also feels peace in knowing that he'll come back and "us" will resume in only a matter of weeks.

all that was and all that was lacking

Have you ever noticed how silent true winter is? The temperatures loom low and flurries float on icy breezes...and there is nothing but the hollow moan of Winter in the trees, and all the world is strangely hushed. Perhaps it is that everyone, like me, is simply taken by the cold, waiting, still, shaken with the dead quiet of a dead season. I felt today, as though I could have raised my voice to the gray heavens and all four corners of the earth would have heard my words. Everything seemed that full [or empty] of peaceful discord.

And I was full and empty, appeased and disturbed, lonesome and surrounded all at the same time...

Finally

"So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending."

- J.R.R. Tolkien

A story as uncharacteristic as the phenomenon itself: Snow falls in Baghdad. Sometimes the good news does manage to fall through the cracks. And so I am once again, but only slightly, challenged to consider the possibility that humanity might not all be destined for disaster. I'm sure tomorrow will act as confirmation that it is, but today, this is good enough.

busy, busy

Again, only a minute...

Yesterday the sky dumped torrential rains on Nashville without relent. I should have stuck with the striped Wellington idea but went with notably absorbent New Balances instead. If I haven't clarified already, my most peeved occurrence in life is wet hems on jeans...they never dry and inevitably find a way to slither, clammy and cold, into your shoes. Strangely, against all meteorological odds, yesterday was wonderful.

I guess no matter how much I dread the blocks of class time spent trying to overcome the distraction of day dreams, to-do lists, etc., there is some solace found in the reliability of knowing that I won't care about the business-talk, the corporate explanations, the inner workings of Ford, Starbucks, Post-it, Amazon, Wal-Mart, to name only a few. In addition to this disappointing realization, I spent the afternoon chatting over subs with a friend from last semester, purchasing a highly overpriced flat-iron that I've convinced myself is vital for existence, marking off a few necessary errands, and finally, an evening with the Staff Sergeant.

Rain as it may, no weather could have dampened a night spent with him. Like a friend of mine recently told me, the time apart makes you appreciate the time together all the more, and our time is temporarily numbered as his short, long departure all too quickly approaches.

Institutionalized

"I've only got a minute," seems to start the majority of blogs these days. I'm sorry, it's just...well, it doesn't matter how busy I am, I only have a minute.

I'm getting ready to brave the rain and the early-morning, angry traffic for day number two of the last round of classes. [DING!] It's bizarre to think that this way of life will be over in four months. In four months I'll be finished. No more 8am classes that I cannot, for the life of me, make it to on time. No more last minute research papers on business culture and the hierarchy of corporations that I do not support or praise.

It's funny, that's all.

If I said that I wasn't looking forward to graduation day, I'd surely be lying. It's been a really long time coming. But every time I consider the day following graduation, I think of that scene with Morgan Freeman standing in the grocery store asking his manager if he can go to the restroom. The guy tells him several times that he doesn't have to ask, but prison has conditioned the ex-con. I'm afraid that I'll be the same, a student for all but four years of my entire life, suddenly set free. I'll be given my paper bag of belongings and a small envelope of cash, and maybe a bus ride into town, and the whole, uncharted world will just be sitting there, waiting, ready for me to seize. I worry that I won't know what to do without the regiment of coursework and strangely broken-up daily schedules. I lust after that freedom, yet it terrifies me, too. I think I begin to panic at the sheer size of "adulthood."

I have no idea what I want to do with a degree.

[the next chapter, I believe, will take us to grad school]

my life in bullet-form, but no particular order

I'm still here, I swear, and I've got so much to write about...

...this new read on genocide has gotten me thinking and learning so much about modern history and what people are capable of

...the staff sergeant is getting ready to leave again for about 2 months (i.e., I'll be soon slipping into the life of the dating-single world of military other halves...and we all know how gracefully I wear this persona [note sarcasm]). Reference October for further illustration.

...I'll be turning 24 in a few weeks [...and I'm not who I thought I was...]

...I'll be Valentines-ing it up in Atlanta with an old high school friend turned mil-wife (our men both have dates with the army).

...hopefully I'll be able to introduce a new roommate as the old one has moved...well, down the street

...classes start back (note tone of dread), buuuuuuuut it's the last semester [ever] of undergrad business studies (note tone of elation)

...I've also gotten this new book brimming with writing prompts, so I might start trying those out and posting them here.

And soon I'll give each of these things the time and honor and respect it deserves. Tonight is just not the time or place. I'll post something meaty soon.

[SOON.]

"For last year's words belong to last year's language and next year's words await another voice.”

I could write about this day last year. I could tell you how different I am, how much I grew, about the hardships I conquered. But we all grow and we all overcome, and life continues to mold each one us into something different than we once were. It's no secret that 2007 had its less than ideal moments, and though I can only speak from my own experiences, I am certain that I am no isolated case.

Instead of reliving 2007, I'd rather write about the snow that christened January [2008], that spit and spun beneath the low-cast wintry clouds. It only fell and hovered momentarily in undulating waves whipped across the contrast of asphalt before melting. I'd rather note the morning, ablaze in golden sunlight that filtered in through bamboo blinds and fell like fresh sheets unfurled [on us].

I'd rather get lost in this irrepressible bliss.