Going Home

I'm going home tomorrow. Well, I won't actually get there until Saturday, but I am getting on a plane headed there tomorrow. Though I have my moments of hesitation when I think of what I'll miss here, I can't deny how excited I am. I've missed it so thoroughly, so completely. I might have found a close second in New York, on my couch, at the Rec ... but nothing is quite Home the way Diest is. It's where I fit, where I'm happiest, where it seems dreams you have yet to stumble across manage to come true. I can't wait to be back in the land of cobblestones and brick, of enchanted sunsets and bewitching night skies.
And I know there are reservations in many of your minds concerning old flames that reside there. Never fear - I've moved on! No more heartbreak from glorified summer flings.

Moose

No one should have to bury two pets in the course of a single month. It's really more than anyone should have to handle.
Monty's death was an unexpected tragedy, but Moose's, I suppose, was an expected end. That doesn't make it hurt any less.
Moose was the best chocolate Lab anyone could dream up. He was sweet and daring, he loved road trips and long wanderings. He especially loved the snow - he would wander around with his nose in it, making a path. Yes, he got grouchy as he lost weight and his arthritis worsened, and yes, I have a scar on my left wrist where his teeth were last spring. But somehow that all fades away when I think of him as a puppy, curled up in the birdbath.
Last night, it became glaringly apparent that it was the end of the road for Moose. His back legs had pretty much stopped working, he had sores on his mouth, and when you looked into his cataract covered eyes, you no longer saw the puppy that had never quite left him. We put him to sleep today, ending a wonderful twelve year relationship.
I suppose I've seen it coming since he stopped going upstairs, since his walks around the block exhausted him for the day ... since he lived four years longer than he should have. But it's still heartbreaking to realize I'll never hear his tapping as he walks across tile, I'll never again watch his eyebrows express everything he was feeling, I'll never again have him lick my face when I'm upset until all I can do is laugh.

thoughts...

Now, I realize that I haven't updated in a few weeks. And yet, I somehow don't feel bad. I feel like I don't have anything to say, thus no need to blog. Though I suppose that isn't true. I do have a lot to say, but I've been letting it out in other forums. E-mails, songs, my journal. I've been thinking a lot, but nothing has seeemed like a topic of interest for a blog. I could talk about the trials and triumphs of my relationship, I could talk about excitement over travel and the prospect of being an adult and college, I could talk about my job, the books I'm reading, conversations and minor adventures I've had. But none of that seems to call me towards my blog. It does call me towards those other forums, though. Perhaps it's a different nature that flows through my thoughts right now, perhaps it's just the season.

I will say one thing, though.
I miss the way things were in April, before I changed, before life changed me. I miss the constant nature of daily life, gossip in the library, absolute boredom, unavoidable laughter, an unspoken bond that none of us could shake. But then things changed. Projects happened and schedules got tricky. I chose to go with the easier option of company, to become nearly exclusive in my company rather than make the effort to coordinate otherwise. And for that, I'm sorry. I realized halfway through that this was the case, but it seemed that things would clear up once summer started and schedules got more regular. But I forgot to take into account that everyone would scatter as soon as graduation was over. Camp, trips, jobs ... the things I thought would serve as a regulator have become the thing keeping me from getting back to the way we were. It is my not so silent fear that we've already scattered, the way I knew we would in the fall. We've already said good-bye to two friends as they set off for training. Some will be gone all summer, others for a week or two - but will there ever again be a moment when we return to that reassuring constant lifestyle of April? I fear the answer is "No". I wasn't prepared to close that chapter of life until the end of August, and it's a rude awakening to find myself unprepared when it ends.