moved out much much thanks to wonderful friends who are even better people, thinking about the ties i want to keep or leave behind. there is so much belief that i will be back soon and i want it to be true.
or do i? part of me is wondering if i'm done with chicago but no, i don't think so, not just yet. these jobs are daunting and i doubt myself.
i'm tired but needed to also say that today my driver for the car back from fedex has three sons, two in the military and one in college. one marine (?), one air force. first son is on active duty in "the middle east" but they can't know where exactly he is so that they won't panic if they hear a certain city was hit. showed me a pic of his boy eating haribo gummies in a chair at what i assume was the barracks. so proud of his boys, he said, going far in life. and i felt heartbroken. to be shipped off to a meaningless war? he says their mother frets about them but he respects the choices his sons made. and if they come home in a body bag? i am heartbroken because this is the dream that america sells and a 5000 dollar pension is somehow worth the possibility of laying down your life. this "war" has not felt too real to me, and even though i write that with some guilt, how could it? i am so far away and padded with privilege. mother saw a body when she was flying in to chicago. it could be his son next time.
wanted to also say the other day after skipping convocation. i always wonder why i couldnt stand up with that one person and yell free palestine in my undergrad convocation. why am i so afraid of getting in trouble? do i fall in line fast? it haunts me a bit and i wonder if i cave to such a little thing that is so relatively nonconsequential, how much more will i fold for to avoid my own discomfort? i don't know. i need to practice.
has been so difficult to pack. to part with what i made and give it to people i didnt intend them to be given to, to sacrifice things that held sentiment for me. i really am attached to the material. it is grounding. but i am only afforded that because i can somewhat afford the space and the collection of it. we had two boxes left but we spent so much on shipping but is it so bad to use another box and and and?
feeling like im only just starting to talk to and get to know people who are remaining in chicago who i want to know better.
not yet feeling and understanding that im leaving some of the best friends i've had behind yet until i get a job
wondering how i can peacefully drift from those i don't want to stay in touch with as much.
the last night in drexel was rough with an upset mother and a kind of drunk me. i was crying at 4am and was only chastised for undoing the packing of a box in search of notebook and pen. of course i understood her frustration but i think it would be nice for some sort of checking back in for lashing out or something. in the end i returned to the thought i had earlier in packing. i've come far with my emotions and conflict resolution. but we are just two people at the end of the day and there are some moments where what i think a mother should be does not align with what i actually get. that being said i think i am the one who came out most unscathed after this week of shut-in packing. she is so good at mothering actions in some ways but sometimes i am left lonely against an ego. i feel guilty. i wish mother saw the lake. i hung out with friends a lot. i did not drive nor did i move much nor did i clean. mother bore the brunt of it and it is only fair she feels frustrated. and yet i am selfish and want more. selfish not in a bad way, just selfish as a fact and something maybe i in fact should embrace more.
dreamt of breaking my mirror before selling it and starling returning. woke up hungover with regret that i didnt drink more water and maybe for scratching a little too hard but now at least i know how you both like it.
met kim's sister today finally. came back to a note next to my door wishing me well and i damn near came undone right there oh she is so sweet and im glad i met her as my neighbor. am glad i gave her sam my heart pillow i hope she feels genuinely that i wanted to give her something and not that i was just pawning it off to her. i will remember her squeezing my hand as i passed her at the front door and i wish my last goodbye and hug was less awkward but im sure it's okay. she really is so sweet and im glad i gave her soup. her welcoming and strength and kindnesses sing to me of humanity that wills itself to be found and proliferated.
my bed of the past couple of years is no longer mine. all my furniture is spread. my garden level apartment is empty. there are things of mine i want to claim when i come back. projects unfinished. i wonder where i'll be next in chicago. leaving is hard. goodbyes are hard. what is this? was this goodbye? where am i going?
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