The slowness of my Internet is really starting to bother me! I can't post YouTube videos. I can't even watch YouTube videos most of the time. Half the time I can barely check my email. Its horrible. I'm so dependent!
Also, I like the way the guy at the smoothie place came out of the back room to tell the lady that I ordered my drink from that I wanted splenda. Its not like I would forget to order it or that she wouldn't understand. I think he just came out there so I would know that he knew. Isn't that special?
And I'm a little sad tonight because I missed phone calls from my dear friend and it would have been awesome to talk to her because she always makes me feel connected to something and understood. But I was out with a friend, which was also nice because I don't like spending much time alone. Now I'm sitting here knowing that she is asleep and I just want to talk with someone. I want to listen to what they think and feel and care about until they run out of things to say and then I'll do the same. We would find the parts that we shared and build on them until they were places we could rest. And we would find the places we are fundamentally different and explain ourselves and draw word-pictures until there were bridges of understanding between us. And at the end we would feel less alone. Less part of just one body and more part of the bigger body of US. But I'm alone. (And cold.)
I didn't think 23 would look like this.
I had so many plans. Plans that grew and changed and crumbled. Plans that replaced other plans. But in all of them I was further along than this. Further along on my list of life goals. Get a "real" job. Get to my goal weight. Move out. Travel. Meet my Person. Get married. Other stuff.
But then there are goals I have reached. Some of them are things I didn't initially plan for. Things I didn't dream of even two years ago: Graduate from college. Lose over 100lbs. Find self-confidence. Feel beautiful. Feel strong. Get my best friend back. And so many tiny, tiny things that mean so much: Feel comfortable in my own body. Learn how to stand my ground. Just dance. Try new things. Learn to love the sun. Take back to reigns from fear. Speak my mind.
But even with so many countless little changes, I did not think 23 would look like this. I'm ready to be more. So much more.
Yesterday I put the treadmill on 6.4 and just ran. That's fast for me. That's much faster than the 5.4 I usually run. It felt amazing. It hurt. I thought my lungs would not keep up with the demand for oxygen my muscles produced. I was nothing but breathing and heart beating and moving forward. I wonder if that's how it feels to not worry. If not worrying is only having something so important in your mind that you don't have time to worry. You just act. You just go. Because no part of me was concerned with flying off the treadmill. I didn't worry about whether or not I could keep going or how much it would hurt later. I just pushed off the ground with each step. I just tried to fill that secret place in the bottom of my lungs with more precious, precious air.
I want and worry and plan. I am impatient and selfish and disappointed. And I've never been so happy and content in my life. Will I one day hold all those things in my hands that I've wanted for so long and then wish for nothing more? Or will I forever stand on the peak of one mountain only to search for the next tallest one I can conquer?
I could tell you what I want most, but that's obvious by now. I could tell you what I fear, but that too is plain.
So I'll say that no matter how many times I write it, I think of it more. No matter how much passion I convey by the careful placing of the right words in the right order, it is never quite sufficient enough to translate this feeling that weighs down my chest and crawls over my skin. Want is such an insufficient word.