Possible Harm

I'm back in Oxford.

After three years of coming and going between Oxford and Cleveland, I've started to realize that whenever I come back here, it feels like I never left in the first place. It's like Oxford exists in some weird time loop that allows you to pause and resume old lives. So, I'm back in Oxford and back in rm. 222 and even though the beds are in different places and posters are arranged in new ways, things feel basically the same. I'm hoping that means this semester will go by quickly.

I've never started a school year with such low expectations, which is sort of nerve wracking. Senior year is supposed to feel like something and so far this just feels like a whole bunch of nothingness. Even spending time with other people feels like being alone.

The same old Yeats quote is taped up by my bed and my hair is all out of control, like it always is. I forgot to pack my hairbrush, like I usually do. You'd think by now I'd know how to do this, but I'm still clueless.

How

This time next week, I'll be back in Oxford. It's strange to think about. It's hard for me to imagine packing up the car and settling into 222 again. It's hard to think about Shiree's room being occupied by someone other than Shiree. It's hard to think about how much things have changed over the past few years, though some, select changes were completely necessary and have done nothing but make things better. I'm having a hard time sorting out my feelings and can't seem to really make sense of anything.

On Wednesday night, I made a fool out of myself. I cried too much about too little when I should have been having a good time. Wednesday night's meltdown was followed by lots of good days, falling asleep on the living room floor, lots of spooning, too much pizza, and what should have been an endless vacation.

This summer has been David Lynch movies, not enough books, C-86 pop, forgetting to roll up my windows, thinking about apartments, falling asleep during movies. Moving on from: The Cardboard Mansion, downtown Willoughby, high school friends. Never letting go of: bad music, messy rooms, old diaries.

I am thinking hard about how I am going to make this school year work: book club with Susan, weekly bike rides, eating healthy, writing lots of letters. Coming home whenever I can.