5.24.05

home. or, at least, back in a place where everything is familiar. sinking into my bed last night was the most luxurious thing i've experienced in months.

it took me eleven days to get home. i packed up my room, hugged my flatmates, and left angie at waverly bridge on the twelfth. both flights were uneventful, just time passing. the most comfortable i'd been in memory: sinking into the back seat of the livery car with jon, watching twilight come hours earlier than i was used to.

the next days at jon's were difficult. i was glad i was there. i got to know his parents better than i would have in a normal situation. i looked at the map on his wall and watched the yard outside his window. i didn't eat very much at all and it felt good. i hurriedly checked my email and leaned against the post outside while he smoked (he smoked anxiously). i went to bed and woke up early. i read that old ace in the hole by annie proulx. i looked at him while he slept and wished i could do more. being there was the way it should have been, the way it should be.

pennsylvania was, as always, pennsylvania. i listened to everyone complain about everything and put together a puzzle with my grandmother.

now, i'm back in maine. five months since i left. life in scotland combined with the hardship surrounding jon have left me feeling adult. i haven't been living the life of the rest of my age group; neither has he. we're doing something different. if it didn't require such suffering on his part, i would do it this way again. this perspective is one of a very few good things that have come out of this ordeal.

the months in scotland left me with the ability to sink myself in the act of living life. bowdoin, it is clear, detracts from living. i will savor the next year, saying goodbye, and then i will do nothing but live all day long.