I came across this in "The Color Purple" my current english language indulgence and BAM it stopped my eyes in their course down the page. Alice Walker had put into words what I'd been feeling for so long. Strain. Stretched thin through time and space.
Memories anchoring me bike rides last summer, dances in years past, late nights and cups of tea in my apartment thesis writing with my roommate in May, family jokes, faces, smells, sounds, sights, and hugs...And then the future comes rearing its ambiguous head. Trips and travels suddenly coalescing. Job certainty and then job uncertainity. And then the present demanded attention. Lesson plans and students, professors and parties, beach time and down time. And lonely time.
Then the stifling vaccum of space is to be considered. Trying to keep connected through emails, blog posts and skype calls. Electronic love being sent around the world till I feel so burnt out staring at my computer screen knowing that this is the only face that I get to see day after day...The little of myself that I can keep together is sent piece by piece to the people I love so they keep remembering me and never forget the part of me that still loves them.
In bending to the situation,trying to practice gratitutde and humility, the strain of waiting for it all to come back together is building.
Waiting is the hardest part. I never meant for my life to be a count down.
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