What is it about the wee hours of the night that make me re-read old journal entries? I'm not sure what inspired me to go through my desk tonight, but I pulled out my old journals - the real ones. The ones I've handwritten since the sixth grade. Mostly I re-read Freshman and Sophomore year, because that is the peak of my melodramatic writing. My life was fascinating and complex to me back then, full of imagined possible-romances-to-be and whiny complaints and general musings of the past, present, and future. Looking back, the most I can take from it is how silly I was. I like to think I've grown, at least a little bit, but I know part of me at the core of my being still behaves slightly like a sixteen year old girl, unsure of pretty much EVERYTHING.
And all of this reflecting on the past has made me reflect on the present. Being home for the summer puts me in a weird sort of limbo. It's hard to imagine that a couple months ago I was living in a dorm room with two other girls, studying constantly and being consumed by UCLA. Although I talked to homefriends often, the connection was still faint and weakened by distance. This summer, I have barely conversed with my UCLAfriends, even though I know as soon as I get back to school it will be like no time has come between us at all. And when school resumes, how will my relationships with my homefriends be affected? I see them almost every day, and definitely every week. While I'm not freaking out like I did last summer, leaving for school will still be strange and sad in its own way. I'm excited for the new year, and am certainly not dreading it, but I will be separated from the comforts of home and the familiarity of friends for far longer than I'd like.
Camp ends on Friday, meaning there are only TWO days left of camp. I have to work an additional day next week to clean up our site, but it will just be organizing and labeling, something I'm very good at and don't mind doing. Work ending means that real summer can begin, something I am looking forward to. Pure summer. My parents are also going out of town for a week, which will hopefully be full of funtimes. Alex will be gone by then (he leaves in a week!), which sucks. I'm pretty sure I'm going to freak out in about a week's time. The summer has gone by fast, and I don't think I'm ready for him to leave and move on.
This is the point in this post where I could say goodnight, or I could delve into emotions and all that sappy crap. Last time I started writing about how I felt, I ended up in a funk for no real good reason. That being said, I think the best course of action is to just say goodnight. While there is some therapeutic result from typing out my problems, it's best left for my eyes only. Especially since they're not really problems, and more like imagined angst.
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