I Can Be Loathsome, I Can Wholesome

I've been home for an hour, and usually I don't stay up this late. I can't get to bed, and I'm not sure why. I keep telling myself it's the heat. Maybe it isn't? I think the summer heat brings out reality for me. Summer is so full of anticipation and hope and it makes me nervous. It makes me wonder about the mistakes I've made. About things I did that I don't think are mistakes, but seem wrong all the same.

I want to walk across the street and into the lake and just swim for a while. In the middle of the night. That would be relaxing.

I can't just go back to my bed and lay in the heat and think about everything. I'll lose my mind.

I keep talking about moving forward, but I'm not sure that I'm ready. I keep doubting everything for no reason. This is so stupid. I don't even know what I'm talking about. Why do I think so hard about every damn tiny little thing? It's going to be my downfall one day.

Remember when you are young and love is desperate and intense and crazy and idiotic? Your whole life is made or broken in a matter of instances and in some odd way it feels like it's normal? Everything stays exciting, but it also gets real and you are suddenly responsible for not only this other new person, but everyone that contacts your relationship. Then your love compared to their love and their old loves and your old loves and you wonder which is most correct.

Then you look at your love and you are so happy and relaxed and that teenage you is like, "Why didn't I have that? It's not so scary."

How do people that make the right choices make them? Is it just an impulse or instinct or do they really think it through? Is it wrong to consider your options before deciding or is that calculating? Can you be smart without being a shrew?

A Little Bit of Sweetness

It's 2:15 AM. I am lying in my bed with only a sheet, no blankets. My window is open. I can hear a train horn in the distance. It's warm, but not hot. The wind is blowing in a soft breeze. Occasionally thunder bellows miles away. All those posts I've written about missing my childhood and feeling unsettled are about missing these moments. The way I feel right now is my happy place. My neighborhood. My wind. My trains.

Sometimes I feel like no one understands why I love this so much. To see the stars through my window and to feel the breeze on my skin. I feel like these nights are made just for me. It's like the world is saying, "It's all going to be ok, Katie. You will be alright. Promise."