Today

I'm leaving in officially three more days and the end is ever rearing its ugly head.


Today, I went to my last Alliance Française meeting for a very long time. Naturally, I was late. I felt as though I should have been their longer. I didn't get a chance to talk with everyone that I should have. They're without a doubt the kindest souls I've ever come across. Ever since the May of my sophomore year of high school, they've taken me under their wings, a protegé of sorts. I do love them, that's for sure. But love doesn't conquer all in the end. Sometimes my own laziness would keep me from going and sometimes my passion for French wavered. It's not where it use to be, which is undeniable, but it is still there never the less. French is yet another thing through which I define myself. It sounds strange to me when I say it, but then again it doesn't. It's opened so many doors for me. This is probably the hundredth time that I've said this, but it's true. I'm forever changed through the French language. The group was basically one of the few constants in my life. Every Wednesday, I'd faithfully go there. In hindsight, I definitely could have spoken more; I realized this as I was speaking with Kamel today. But I still speak well. I want to speak French perfectly, almost like I used to, with no hesitation. There are a number of things that attributed to my decline, but none so greater than myself. I'll get where I want to be sooner or later. Speaking well for an American just doesn't cut it for me, especially when the bar is already at such a dismal height. I'll miss being French on a weekly basis. Eventually I hope to be it on a daily basis.

After French, I visited Zack. Thomas was there as well. Zack bought me a very nice going away present. It meant a lot to me. Why? Because I've known this guy for less than four months although I've known of him for more than a year. He seemingly came into my life and before I knew it, I was visiting his house and becoming chummy with his friends as I advanced higher and higher on his buddy list on AIM before reaching my zenith at number one (or two, I forget, but only after Zack himself). It's pretty much a universal truth that you meet the most amazing people just before you're forced to leave them. Luckily, I believe him when he says that he'll visit me. Speaking of that, I'm overwhelmed by how much love everyone has been showing me...and the most unlikely of people too. And to believe that I was reduced to tears because I thought nobody wanted to make time for me and that they didn't sacrifice for me like I've sacrificed for them. This is still partly true but recent events have proved the contrary. We're all growing up and living our lives so quickly and yet I'm still caught up in bouts of depression and paranoïa. Yeah, I think that I am bipolar. Just what the Doctor ordered. Another friend, Steven, also makes me smile. He's so misunderstood yet I get him so well. And he's sincerely one of the nicest guys I know. Oh, and then there's Thomas, my tennis rival. Deep down he has a heart of gold...love that guy.

So now I'm in sentimental mode. It's just so nice to see all the people around me that love and care for me. Liking is not enough. It's also nice to have guy friends for once. Being around girls so long, I believe, has made me this way: indecisive, unsure of myself, and hanging onto every glance, every intonation, every blink. Simplicity is bliss. Through overthinking, I dig myself into an even deeper hole. Just do it...if only all things were that easy...

Mais là on vit dans le meilleur des mondes possibles, pas vrai? Je ferai mieux de ne pas me plaindre...

I write because

I write because...well, I haven't written in a very long time. I'm constantly referring to myself as a writer, but I don't feel like I have the proof to back it up. A writer writes--end of story. So I guess that in writing now, I feel as though I am proving myself. Why? Because I seem to have this unnatural desire to be defined by what I do and not by what I am. Now that I just wrote that, I feel quite pitiful, but I guess that it's all a part of what it means to be human. So let's be serious: I'm sad.

I'm sad because I'm leaving in just 6 more days. I'm leaving this town for greener pastures...or hills. That seems to be what they have in Washington D.C.. Of course, I'm excited and glad at the same time. I love the idea of starting my new life and I'm pretty sure that I'll like the manifestation of this idea once I am there, but for the moment it plagues me. In speaking to a friend today, I realized that I won't be able to spend time with those that I want to spend time with before I leave. People tell me that it's always like that, that that is how it is. I guess that's true. Maybe I waited too long. For a while I've been saying that I have to tie up some loose ends. If it were shoes that I was referring to, then it would have proved a very simple task. But this time, it's not even about a tangible object. Now, I'm talking about human relationships, the affairs of both the mind and the body. How can I expect to "tie up" these things? They're never truly resolved, right? When you break up with someone, you never forget them, right? At some point in the future, you'll look back on all that you've been through and those people who touched your life, for better or for worse, will always come to mind. In that respect, immortality truly does exist.

I can't sleep...or rather, I don't sleep. Ironically though, I canceled my appointment to visit someone to discuss my sleeping problems. Mainly, it's because of money issues. I can't afford it right now, even though it's only 39 dollars with my health insurance. We're poor and college will only make us more so. But maybe it's better this way. I have to figure this out on my own. A lot has been on my mind but nothing is wrong with it...my mind, that is. I don't think I'm bipolar, as my doctor suggested the other day. A part of me wants to be it, though: then I could put another label on some bizarre trait of mine. I don't want to be in denial, as I often am. Maybe people would look at me differently if I was.

Appearances are important to me, I won't deny that. There will be more later about this...I don't feel like writing anymore. If I continue, then I'll risk sounding pretentious, which apparently, I often seem to do. (Well, at least to myself.)