three weeks

When I set out to go back to school a few years ago, I had an abstract idea of how it was going to work. This was while I was still in Asheville, had a stable job, car, apartment, and boyfriend.


Things change.

As I write this, I am still out of breath from running from the North Station Green Line stop to the Commuter Rail. The 4:25 train was luckily running two minutes late, and as I sprinted


toward Track 2, out of breath (literally panting), slightly dizzy from the two Lagunitas IPAs that I imbibed with my steadily growing


group of lovely transfer non-trad student friends at the Pig,


I took a second to think about how absurd this whole thing is. Meaning: 2 years ago, I could not have possibly designed this life. It continues to be baffling, frightening, and slightly sickening to be where I am compared to where I was.


To be clear, every day there is a bigger knot in my stomach which reminds me of what has been lost. I miss Asheville immensely. I miss certain individuals who have either passed on or passed out of my life


for some or no particular reason, more than words can possibly explain. In the light drizzle, while I am walking down Huntington or Mass Ave. I think of things I want to tell you, each of you, all of you, and it’s impossible.


Exactly 2 years ago, I was living on Cumberland, contemplating a move though I didn’t know where. I still had certain aspects of what I considered at the time to be identifying factors of who I was as an individual: a fully formed person. Flash forward


one month: I was broke, packing my life into a 5′x10′ storage unit on Tunnel Road. Flash forward another month: deeply mourning the loss of a lover, of my innocence, the shattering of whatever semblance of a life I thought I had built,


the family who had substituted for my.. well.. difficult family, everything fragmenting and breaking apart. Then, before I knew it, I was gone. And here I


am. Finally healing from the insurmountable expanse of change, still battling the same bad habits, still trying to keep myself from splitting at the seams while being surrounded by such immense beauty and

{oh god the mist over the marsh right now, could quite possibly be one of the most heartbreakingly exquisite.. and then when I discovered how to ride my bike to the train tracks which cut through the marsh, that night with the sunset and the supermoon..}




it has been three weeks since I started relying on Public Transportation, and the Romance is still alive and well.