Tonight I called a friend I haven't talked to in nearly 3 months. She has a tendency to spread herself too thin between school and work and the silence was upsetting me. In 5 minutes we had fallen back into our old ways of half-formed sentences and complete understandings. I have missed this.
Sometimes I feel that I could easily forget the world I knew in Richmond. We've grown distant and I worry that when I return we will find that no connection remains between us.
Already this silence has stretched between me and everyone I once knew. How much of this is my own fault I don't know. All the people I thought would send me messages or emails regularly are the very same I am hesitant to see.
There's little joy in the thought of return when it means returning to an emptiness. Still, my conversation tonight reminded me that perhaps everything isn't as dark as I am making it. Maybe it will all settle differently than I imagine. But is that what I want?
I think I still hold onto that impossible dream: recreation. I think I can come back and start over. I should know by now it's impossible, that my baggage has followed me once across the sea and it will follow again. But still remains the idea of coming back and having no ties. I would be free.
But free is just a word, isn't it? It has no real meaning. It is the reason I can't bring myself to be angry that I always seem to have to start the conversations with people. It is the reason I can't seem to delete people from my Facebook or my address book. It's the reason I have no answer when Jagna or Ziming or Ge tells me to stay and I can't think of a single reason why they're wrong.
Free is a cliché and we all know it's the clichés that cause the problems.
Sometimes I feel that I could easily forget the world I knew in Richmond. We've grown distant and I worry that when I return we will find that no connection remains between us.
Already this silence has stretched between me and everyone I once knew. How much of this is my own fault I don't know. All the people I thought would send me messages or emails regularly are the very same I am hesitant to see.
There's little joy in the thought of return when it means returning to an emptiness. Still, my conversation tonight reminded me that perhaps everything isn't as dark as I am making it. Maybe it will all settle differently than I imagine. But is that what I want?
I think I still hold onto that impossible dream: recreation. I think I can come back and start over. I should know by now it's impossible, that my baggage has followed me once across the sea and it will follow again. But still remains the idea of coming back and having no ties. I would be free.
But free is just a word, isn't it? It has no real meaning. It is the reason I can't bring myself to be angry that I always seem to have to start the conversations with people. It is the reason I can't seem to delete people from my Facebook or my address book. It's the reason I have no answer when Jagna or Ziming or Ge tells me to stay and I can't think of a single reason why they're wrong.
Free is a cliché and we all know it's the clichés that cause the problems.
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