Sunday, June 24, 2012

"And that's all I had to say about that."

And so, my epically (4-post) long life update is finally published. For easy viewing, here are the links in order of how I wrote it (as opposed to the reverse order you get by scrolling).

A lot has happened this summer. Mostly, I'm having a good time with my family, my job, and of course, my boyfriend. Life has never looked so good as it has lately.

Hospital soon, though, for my mom's surgery. A solemn time approaches. I'm going to enjoy all the moments I can possibly enjoy.


"Never" is a hard word to swallow.

"Never" is a big word. I don't take well to absolutes. "Always". "Never". I guess it makes relationships a little weird to me, the whole concept of them. Or at least, of them happening so young. Especially as someone who didn't spend her childhood dreaming of settling. Young marriage, young family. Commitment to one person, one idea, one thing. That wasn't me. That isn't me.

As I mentioned before, camp reminded me of that--possibilities. I'm thinking of Michelle and John. Tiffani and David. Then I'm thinking of me. Carlos, Jacob, Zaylin.
I had a dream last night involving Julian.
And then I wake up, and it's all about Daniel again. I remember what Julian and I talked about right before graduation. "We could've had a lot of fun this year", "We can still have fun", "This isn't a good time for either of us", "When we're both available to each other, I would love to..."
And I think about Daniel.
And I thought about all these guys, the things I remember about them, like their faces and their voices, and in my mind I applied in big red letters: "never"
I might never know what it's like to be with them--not just them as people, but them as a concept. Any other guy I might meet in the future. Never again.

Why? Because, Daniel.

"Always" with one person always scared me, because it applies "never" to everyone else.
But with Daniel, it's a little different. Less scary. More promising.
He makes me want things I didn't want. To live. He makes me want to do everything in the world. He makes me want to dream big, to travel and see and try new things. To know what it's like, to get married, to have a family, to have a grown-up life of my own. I think it's my desire for him to stay that is coming up with these fantasies. As if my idea of marrying him will anchor him to me, to this side of the world. I can go to work and come home to him every day, knowing he's not going anywhere. I could spend my nights and mornings with him without the shame of being desperate teenage lovers. He makes me want to grow up. With him.

Of course, I'm not in a hurry to get married; that's not what I'm saying at all. It's just such an interesting feeling.

I don't know if this will last forever, but as of right now, I wish it would. I'm ready to say, I'm kind of in love with him. And he's kind of totally in love with me, which will likely always be difficult for me to believe, although I want so much for it to be true. But he is possibly the greatest thing to have happened to me in my life, not exaggerating. Especially at this time of my life, after the disasters of high school and in the face of the fears of the future.

I don't want him to leave me. I don't ever want to leave him. I never want to hurt him. That's how I feel right now. "Never".

I just had a conversation with him on the phone.

We talked about something I've been dying to know...who is he? Who is he now, after everything he's been through the past 5 years? Maybe I was a little disappointed in what he had to say. He basically admitted, he's not the same person he was before. My consolation is that he's currently a mix of the Daniel I knew, and the Daniel he became when he moved. That's the Daniel I'm dating. But he told me, whenever he moves to a new place, he starts over, like becoming a new person. I already know, he's moved around a lot, and that's likely not to change--especially now that he has two lives across America. I guess I'm really just afraid of him changing, becoming someone completely different, leaving me behind. And the reality that we've both still got a bit of growing up to do, and we might not be perfectly compatible at the end of it. If we make it that far.

Part of me wants to freeze how we are now, this daily life of just trying to figure out when we'll next see each other.


I spent a week at camp enjoying myself and having a ball. And you know what? There were boys there (duh). There were boys with beautiful voices and beautiful faces and fascinating personalities and to be honest, some of them sparked my interest. Some of them were interested in me, too. But I came back to the dorm every night and either called or waited for Daniel's call, and talked to him for over an hour, or for five minutes, however long we had. And then I would climb into the top bunk and stare at the dark of the ceiling, cramped into a ball under two blankets in the cold room, aching for his body heat and the sound of his heartbeat and steady breathing. His quietly voiced sigh, almost inaudible, of complete comfort and content, when we're together. He wasn't there, but he helped me to sleep each night.

The last night of camp, we talked on the phone. "It's official," he said. "I'm leaving June 26."

It was one of those moments where your heart doesn't necessarily sink, but kind of bobs in uncertainty, something like shock and/or disbelief turning the medium in which it floated to a semi-solid jello. My heart was sinking, but very, very slowly.

Waiting for the best part of your life to leave is, as I have found, much akin to waiting to die.

And thus, the day back from camp was potentially the worst day of my summer. I felt horrible all day, and it was awful. Simple.

It was only a few days from when he broke the news to when a new opportunity popped up. August 8. He would have another month and some to stay here, and have enough time before school starts at Utah State to prepare himself. If only I wanted him to stay?

Of course, what could I say to that? I melted; it took everything not to beg him. I can't ask him to stay. I could never ask him to stay. I told him, he knew how I felt. How I feel. What did he think?

And so, the deadline was magically extended to August 8. Far enough away to soften the sting.
Still, it feels like we're bucket-listing. It's bittersweet, and I can only imagine who will cry first those last days.

Probably him. He could be weeks gone before it all crashes down on me.

And suddenly, I have so much to say.

In fact, I'm going to spread this over multiple posts so you don't get too irritated reading it all in one sitting. (whoever "you" are)

First of all, camp was incredible. Work as a graphic design intern reminds me where I'm going in life, by pressing me daily for creativity and new ideas and visual execution. Camp reminded me where the other half of my heart lies. One week, so many songs, and over 150 people who all came together of their own accord to do what they love. There was so much heart put into every moment, at that camp. My voice was so tired by the end of the week, but the songs keep playing to this day. The selection might have just been the director's choice, but they all meant so much to each of us, in different ways. Here Inside My Heart. Requiem. A Thousand Beautiful Things.
Oh, My Luve's Like a Red, Red Rose.

As fair art thou my bonnie lass, so deep in luve am I
I will luve thee still, my dear, tho' it were ten thousand mile.

Next post!