I haven't been here long enough to cause any tears when we drive away, except for maybe my own. I can see all my beautiful moments in Buffalo start to fade like a stack of old photographs. My sadness about leaving a place comes from knowing that these faces will stay exactly the same. I will always know my friend Sam's twenty-five year-old face. I'll miss all the wrinkles of thirty, forty-five, and fifty. The only memories we'll share will be from the few months I lived in Buffalo when we were both twenty-five. It's the same with my friends from high school. I only know their teenage-selves.
And this is okay. This is definitely normal. We don't have space in our bags to carry every person we meet with us. There is room for a few still shots but not the ever growing pile of diaries and home movies that is another person's life.
I always try desperately to expand my bag and carry more with me but it doesn't work. When I do that, I just end up being a mediocre friend to a many and not an especially good friend to anyone. To love people in the way they deserve to be loved takes a mountain of effort, time, patience, and persistence. You can only spend so many mountains of that stuff before you're worn out.
I spoke with one of my girlfriends from university yesterday. She's graduating tomorrow and I can feel her sadness about the end of a beautiful four years. I remember that sadness. It's a similar sadness to what I feel now.
We leave Buffalo in four days and I'm wondering, when am I going to start feeling excited again?
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ReplyDeleteSo I was changing our reception blog and read this one when I was done. I loved it so much I made a comment from your account before noticing what I did. oops, anyways...
ReplyDeleteIt's amazing how well you describe your emotions, especially the way you feel about the topic above. I, and many others, have a hard time doing that. Thanks for sharing :)
You two are quite the pair and I feel incredibly blessed to have you both in my life. I agree with you about the energy bit and the mountains and the worn out piece. I love the friends and "family" I have with whom I can pick up right where we left off all the while noticing the wrinkles and laughing about our parts that don't do the same they used to do (even though it's not so funny). I love you and am glad you blog. I like getting to know you more.
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