Location: Southeastern, United States

Thursday, May 12, 2005

So Watauga.

A kid from my program just signed an email to the entire Watauga class - "missing you like the desert misses the rain".

I was never that in love with the place, but there's that part of me, that excitement in my chest, that wants the pagan dance amidst the trees of the mountain, that wants the long soft summers. People fall in love with Watauga their freshman year. I have been there two years; it has been the major relationship of the last two years of my life. It wasn't everything I wanted it to be. It wasn't perfect.

Last night, I dreamed that we were down in the dining hall, and it was that moment in the music when someone decides, heck, we may as well dance. And I was going to join them - three years of Wataugans, whirling across the dance floor - but I thought of my absent boyfriend back in the dorm, and the moment died in me, and I didn't dance.

When I return it will be the pagan dance in the mountains. It will not end.

Some part of me is seperate from this family and this place, and also free from my classes and the unhappy strain of that last year of school. Some part of me is free to see beauty and be transparent/reflective to it. Some part of me is missed like the desert misses the rain.



Blogger Alex said...

p.s. I love this blogger format.

12:53 PM  

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