While the lady that was pumping gas across from us gushed distractedly about how cute such a term was, I found myself concerned that she might think that he was hitting on me... and the true meaning of what he meant kind of escaped me in that moment.
Now as I sit awake, realizing that my flight leaves in 10 hours and 16 minutes, I've kind of had time to stew on that meaning and understand what I should have taken out of it.
This past month has kind of been an eye opener. In so many ways that I could write novels about it. I've never felt such emotional chaos in my life as this mixture of happiness, relaxation, anger, despair, stress, relief, and longing. Wrapped up into 30 short days; my moods have been twisting so wildly that I think, perhaps, I know what it is to be Bipolar. Or at least something close.
Nothing makes you feel like a total and complete asshole.. than moving away from your friends and family. I can't count on my fingers the number of times my mother has broken down into tears, sobbing over my inevitable departure... speaking as though I might be dying instead of just going home.
I feel almost.. betrayed in the sense of my friends, concerning the ways they treat me: Like it's a never-ending birthday that I endure; receiving the utmost respect, and reverement; seeing the most impressive fronts, and having them 'making the best of it while you're here'.
It's not that I don't enjoy the attention, mind you; but I guess I kinda feel like I want to live close enough to be taken for granted. I don't want to think people feel obligated to treat me any differently, just because they won't see me, again. I don't like the reminders of those important friendships that I have left behind.
I feel confidant that the majority of them will stand the tests of time; but also.. I hate that disturbing feeling of wanting to pick up the phone and call someone over to watch TV, and then remembering that they don't live a block away from me, because I told Minnesota to get up and go fuck itself.
I don't do well with Farewells and Good Byes. I always get awkward during them, and would rather just get the departure over with, rather than sit and consider how sad I'll be when I miss someone.
On the plus side: I adore my parents, but living here with them for a month has almost been hell. In that way, I really wish I lived close enough to be taken for granted.. because then I wouldn't have to make these long trips out here like this. To sit and listen to my mother cry because she misses me, and wrongly places her concept of happiness, and her sense of well being on my physically being there.
That.. is just something that is impossible to live up to. It makes it easier to leave, however.
