[note: there are quite a few hits to this journal from my aunt's website. could the person who arrived here from there - all sorts of archive stuff and internet faves - please let me know who you are? I've not shared this journal with any of my family, and if this reader is family, I'd like to know. danke.]
*
So, here we go.
one tank gone, second thoughts are on my mind/ what's this trip gonna cost me this time/ the devil I know is starting to look awfully kind/ but the new road is an old friend/ I fill it up again.
I've packed. Before I packed, I felt really calm and ok. I expect tomorrow to be more like that. Unreal, and blessedly so. Just driving. Hours of unreality. The hotel will provide some nerve-wracking reality, but otherwise... I'm focused on everything this trip isn't. It isn't two weeks. It doesn't involve an airplane. And so forth. It's calm. I'm trying to be calm about it.
It'll be ok/ it'll be alright...
I talked to Dwight today. He called me. It was magic, the real sort. I won't see him this time around, but it was an amazing conversation (I have an attempted transcript of it saved, so maybe I'll share that soon... I ran straight to my computer to type up as much of what he said as I could. After I hung up the phone. They just have no idea. Well, they have some idea.) I love Dwight. And we're not done yet, and I'm so glad of that.
I'm terrified I'm forgetting something, but it's a two day trip, and I've packed all sorts of everythings. Some extra breath would be good, but I think I'll calm down soon. Packing always winds me up terribly. And awful phrases like "this time tomorrow." Aih! Don't say that. I've barely gotten to the point where I can say, "This weekend." I need to go to sleep. I have to be at Rogers (holy fucking shit) at 8:30 Saturday morning. I'm never even up at 8:30... Here's to groggy, adrenaline-fueled days of being in close proximity to love. Here's to telling Sara it's ok that we are where we are. I don't have to pretend I'm better than I am, Saturday. I don't have to not be sick. I will be ok.
I will be better than ok... To think what they've already given me. Just this week. Again.
Celebrate with me, blast it! And don't worry if it takes me awhile to return. I'll be back Sunday night entirely without energy, have an appointment Monday to suck away any energy I had, and crash for a good month after this. So. Hakuna matata, even if I don't show up for a few days. If a month goes by, just assume I've moved into one of the trees nearest to them, and am surviving off smuggled food from all these people who understand how much I love them.
I love you all. I'm going to survive this. I'm going to be ok and have fun. I'm going to have so many stories I won't believe it. I'm not going to remember it all. I'm going to take a thousand photos that will all be poorly lit and have fingers in them. (I'm good at that kind.) I will love and be loved. (Keep me safe, dears. Ok?)
I'm leaving the south for the northern sky...