a last bite, and a first

Paris.  New York.  Hawaii.  Kansas.  Tuscon.  California.  Seattle. Orlando.  Utah.  Japan.  Chicago. Boston.

I keep learning of new places that people I know are going to be this summer. Unfortunately some of these people are close friends. And some of these people are school friends who went home of course. They're everywhere.

Everywhere but the suburban desert that I call home.

It's not that I am jealous. I am thrilled to be home. But most of that thrill comes from the familiarity and comfort of home, family, and friends. And the latter part is getting more difficult to wrap my head around.

My friends and I have come to the age that we actually have STUFF going on. Internships in different states, even different countries. That's great. I love that. But it's also a big punch in the shoulder from reality, saying, Things are changing...

The thing about change is that I have come to realize how terrible I am with it. It is not the act of change that I don't know how to handle, but the end of whatever brings on the change. I am bad at goodbyes.

It always stresses me out when I am watching a movie or reading a book and a person knows they won't see someone for a while, or maybe ever again and they just don't say goodbye. They don't leave a tidy end, just in case their paths don't cross again, or something dramatic like that.

Why wouldn't you say goodbye?!?!? I think angrily. Don't be stupid....

I am one of those people who is overly aware of endings.  Yet this awareness doesn't help the matter--it only makes it more emotional. I appreciate things when they are happening, when they are ending, and when they are over. A lot of people don't appreciate things until they have more perspective on a matter, but I get overwhelmed with emotion about everything. Everything. It would be embarrassing to admit what little moments and occurrences I cherish. It's a blessing and a curse. When these things come to a close I search to find a way to have them end tidily and happily. In my head I have to say goodbye in my own way.

This struck me as I was eating lunch the other day.  I'm a big believer in "last bites."   When I am enjoying a meal, I don't feel completely satisfied unless I get that delicious, tasty last bite.  I'm the same way with people, situations, anything that is possible to say goodbye to...  I want that last taste to be something to remember, something to capture the essence of the thing that is ending.  This can be stressful at times, because saying goodbye isn't easy and it's usually not very artful.  Yet I try to do my best, just so I can at least say I tried.

However, some endings you don't see coming... or maybe you decide to ignore that they're coming.  I didn't anticipate that my world would be stretched, literally, across the world this summer.  I guess a part of me thought that summer would be a time for everyone to reunite at home from our respective new "homes"... I now realize how deluded I was to think this.

So here I am, saying goodbye to a time where we were all stuck in the desert each summer. Except, it certainly didn't feel like we were very stuck, because we had so much fun together, even if all we had to do was watch movies, bake, and craft since the blazing sun kept us indoors most of the time. But that was okay, because I love all those things, especially with my favorite people. I am so grateful to have such wonderful friends, and am going to enjoy every last bite of the next course of our friendship.

And besides, even when we're ancient, I would still like to think that we would drive somewhere in the desert at night to dance ridiculously to the music blasting from the car.