i was actually writing when i didn’t have my laptop. here are some notes from the void.

[august 27]

already, i’m finding that to travel, you have to be ready to tear your heart into pieces. on top of that, you’ve got to be ready to leave them scattered where they fall — in your best friends, in a desert valley, an azure waterfall enclosed in a forest, on an immense lake of salt, in the heart of a thriving city, in impossibly tall waves on the beach, and, sometimes, though luckily not in my case, in a boyfriend or girlfriend.

i’ve seen my friends leave all of it — leave love, leave friends, leave this landscape, this city. and it’s never been easy.

and now, more than six months in, i find myself counting toward the end, rather than from the beginning. with that change comes a clear realization: i’ll soon leave all of this behind.

and, objectively, without the thought of what awaits me when i return, i loathe the thought. i have grown a love for this thin little country that is rather hard to explain.

six months into my year in olympia, i’d have jumped at any opportunity to leave. six months in and i’d developed no real connections. there’s not one piece of my heart that remains in that little town. incentives to visit? sure. but love,  that will to be there, that longing? there’s none of that.

but of course, the circumstances are entirely different. coming to chile through teaching chile guaranteed that i’d have a circle of friends. i work in a place where there are plenty of young, friendly colleagues — who speak english. so, sure, i’ve had help in making a wonderful life for myself — a much happier life than olympia ever gave opportunity for.

in any case, i’m going to have a hell of a time leaving here, saying goodbye — possibly forever — to some of these people. because as much as i entertain the idea of my best chilean friend meeting and marrying one of my american friends, the truth is, that is a future entirely sculpted out of selfishness and hope. could it really happen? maybe. will it? maybe.

[while we’re on the subject, anyone wanna marry this beauty so we can stay bffs? please?]

this reality is, and always has been, temporary.

as a result, i find myself walking the streets of santiago a bit slower, eating an empanada a little more often than i should, and trying my best to appreciate this world. there’s no doubt i love it here — hell, my heart’s already been left all over it. and — i still have more to see. i’d better get to ripping.

[september 11, 2011]

in being here, i’m losing my grip on reality. my reality, the very real world lying in wait on the other side of the world.

and the reality i’m losing is that nothing is sitting around waiting for me. the world hasn’t stopped turning while i while away my time here. one of my best friends is getting married. my boyfriend is starting something new and exciting. my niece is growing. my family is completely fractured.

my family is COMPLETELY fractured.

do i need any clearer indication than that? any more indication that this world hasn’t stopped turning? probably not.

there’s a love naivete in growing up. we are at the centers of our own worlds. our parents, our families, our friends, our studies — they orbit around us. they don’t even exist without us. it’s a bit of a blow when we realize how untrue that really is.

but being on the other side of the world and watching home through facebook has an odd it’s-a-wonderful-life like aspect to it. I’m seeing day-to-day life without me.

of course, the difference being that my family and friends do miss me. but, they still have their own lives to live. i watch as they make plans, follow through, and then post pictures afterward, and talk about it in comments later.

and it’s little things i don’t know that get to me. someone i know got a new phone months ago. my friend’s brother got his dream job. things i would hear about if i were home, talking to me friends and seeing them on a day-to-day basis. i’m reduced to catching what i can on my newsfeed, and that’s bizarre.

and what’s odd is knowing that when i leave here, i’ll do the same thing with the friends i’ve made here. i’ll watch them from afar, wishing i could hear their stories first hand.

[and that’s all i have to share for now. g’night.]