i am in love. i am so in love.

it is the afternoon in london. rebecca and i just came back from babysitting two little ones, named aurora and robin. we went to the playground in kew gardens and i played with all the babies and laughed and had such a time, bundled in a pink scarf and tights in the cold, london air. i am in an english house with english stairs. rebecca's sister is playing their grand piano. i can hear lawnmowers and birds outside. the sounds of a home. i have my own bed and freshly cleaned laundry and a shower filled with girly products. every few minutes someone asks me if i would like some tea or a glass of wine or a snack.

when i arrived, rebecca's mom came rushing down the stairs and hugged me. the house smelled of freshly baked bread. we had pasta for dinner, drank too much wine, and sat for hours. family dinner. we lounged on the enormous couch and watched jane austen movies by the fireplace. we ran up the stairs like little girls, clutching our glasses of wine, flopping on rebecca's bed to gush over boys and shoes and text messages. her dad gave us money for lunch the next day. we walked in the rain and went shopping and had afternoon tea in a little house with floral curtains and tiny china teacups. i have known rebecca my whole life.

last night i met a gaggle of her girlfriends over drinks. they are blonde and happy and loud and i loved them. they are all 19, and when rebecca mentioned i am 25, they screamed-- literally, screamed-- with horror and then the quietest one, named claire, exclaimed "but that's almost 30!" 

i was amused and realized that i am older, though not necessarily wiser. i have just had longer to experience things. they are all leaving for university in a few weeks, and as they discussed how excited and scared they are, i flashed back for a moment to my own experience of leaving for college, some 7 years ago. of standing on the sidewalk the night before i left, clutching sara holms in my arms and crying so hard because i was terrified and could not envision my life any other way. because i knew it was inevitable and necessary, but also so painful. and at the time, it seemed like the most significant moment in the scope of all moments. i look back on it now and it is mostly buried within layers memories. stuck somewhere inside, like a scrap of paper in a forgotten book. 

i find it comforting. that even the most agonizing times in life will eventually seem softer, that the sharp, cutting feelings will someday blur and just become shadows, that, though i don't lose experiences, i am able to tuck them away with time. because there are always new moments. and new troubles. and new joys. i see rebecca with all her hope and her anxiety at the prospect of this new step; i recall my own moments like those and am so aware of their significance, yet am so far from them now. because we just keep going. 

we go. we go and we go. 

in the small spaces i can remember this, i feel so incredibly unfettered. i feel fluid and happy. i feel like i can enjoy life without becoming too entrenched in any one experience or thing. everything is important, but nothing is singularly important. nothing decides me, except me. i am going. walking.

i am also tangled up in my ideas. i can't quite sort them out. 

london has been very still. we've done a lot, but i've been sick and little bit slow. i feel far away from everything. i keep saying that and i'm not quite sure what it means yet. once i do, surely all this time will become clearer. i'll understand these foreign feelings. i feel close to the people i love. i feel near. but i don't feel inside of anyone anymore. i don't feel like any one person might rescue or change me. i don't feel like i am permanently bound to anything but myself. it scares me when i think about it, or i feel like i should be scared, and then i'm not. i just feel suspended. i feel close. i feel far. i feel self-contained.

it's making it hard to write. to write here at least. i started this blog because i was afraid of being away from people. i did it less so people could follow my journey should they wish to, and more because i needed to know that i was being heard somewhere in the world. somehow. but now it just feels okay inside of me. it feels like the words can filter back through me and i won't explode.  it is not so much happiness as it is just being okay. 

okay with whatever is. 

and whatever is not.

i will be okay.

i am okay.

to close this nonsensical collection of words, some words my puzzle piece spoke to me early on in my journey, which i didn't fully believe, until they were true:

you have so much opportunity to discover everything you need to within yourself over there. you have the opportunity like never before. sometimes the greatest gift we are afforded is being thrust into a situation we are not sure how to survive, and then looking back on it, not knowing how we couldn't.