Our Interrupted Uninterrupted Time Together

This won't be anything ground-breaking or thought provoking. If you're human and you're older than 18 that's all the life experience you need to understand that nothing truly belongs to you. And that's what this is all about. Not the air you breathe, or that kiss from that boy on the fifth grade, not your fat kitty, or crummy apartment you live in. Nobody cares if you paid for it. And I certainly hope you didn't pay for that fifth grade kiss. 

The month of May showed it's sneaky self around the corner recently, caught me a little off-guard and now I realized I'm looking at the next few weeks the way I looked at the last few pages of the Divergent series: a mixture resting between what-the-fuck and a deer in headlights, battling with the uneasiness of starting a new chapter in the book of my life. For those who don't know, I'm moving to Syracuse, NY around late June to begin my master's degree in Magazine, Newspaper, and Online Journalism for the Newhouse School of Syracuse University. And although the prevailing emotion has been excitement, the underlying reality is that I'm overwhelmed, a little scared, and can-somebody-just-press-pause-please?

My hardest challenge so far has been telling my heart to be still at every recent farewell and promise of "I'll see you this week", and "we're hanging out on thursday, right?" I'm still trying to make peace with this time not being mine to give, this uninterrupted time together that we used to have, that certainty that even if I can't be present for today I'll still be here next week, next month, next year,... is slipping. Our seemingly distant future, that taboo and obscure black hole of life after college, isn't so black and holey anymore. It's gotten clearer, the edges noticeable like a slowly rising sunrise. The discussions over exams, and finals, and the transition into our young-adult lives that brought us together is now pestered by the daunting realization that we've all been set free. Our cage has been propped open and like convicts we're stuck wondering "where do we go now?" Now we're more than just kids in the same period of life, stagnant, and waiting. If anything we've hit those speed-boosters only found in video games. Our surroundings now feeling more like a painting in motion, all blurred lines and movement. 

I remember that when I was in high school, I used to become upset when my girl friends would start dating new boys and spend all the beginning weeks with them beating through all the newness. Suddenly there was no time for the usual sleepovers, or movie theater marathons after school, or gossipy phone calls late at night. I felt like there was no time for me. And as a person that thrives on giving and receiving quality time, this was by far my biggest peeve. And a scary one at that because I like the nuances. I like knowing the details, discussing what kind of coffee you had this morning, whether you went out for a run, or the latest that creepy guy/girl texted you last night. I like the familiarity, the notion that the next time I see you we don't have to talk because the next thing you could ask me is what color underwear I'm wearing and who-the-hell-cares kinda thing. Our time: uninterrupted by moves across the country, by duties, by certainties.

And granted, a little more life experiences, boy-dramas, and full-time jobs later I understand that life as we know it isn't always possible. And that we belong to everyone,  and at the same time to no one. We belong to things we don't want to belong to sometimes, like meetings, and 9-5's, chemistry exams, and tub scrubs. And we belong to things we can't bear ever leaving. Like that time we sang songs riding in the car late at night, or the whole summer we had of beach-bumming our way through Puerto Rico. Our childhood bedroom, the shoes with holes, the laugh that ripped us apart. Yet, as we feel our horizons expanding, we understand one thing: That to love is to set free. It is to want for that person what they want for themselves.  Although it is, more often than not, easier said than done. However, in the midst of these times I've found that relationships, when nurtured properly, have a steady amount of fuel to go on. And that they change shapes, and they look a little different, and that it's OK not to now whether you slept five hours last night or not; to not know absolutely everything about each other anymore. You'd be surprised at how wonderful it can be to discover one another anew.

But boy, am I going to miss that. I don't know if I'm ready for all the newness, for the lack of coffee dates with my best friend, or a garbage disposal. For living with the ghost of Hy-Vee behind my eye lids, or that upbeat little old man that greeted me every morning I went in to buy myself a Larabar. How about my missing washer/dryer in unit, or knowing who to call to pick me up from the airport? I can't remember when our responsibilities became bigger than ourselves. I can't remember when our uninterrupted time became interrupted, but I remember this, and I want you to remember this too...

There isn't a better gift than to be free. 

And "you can always find me, if you ever want again" - John Mayer