And here I am again
“I wish I could just pack up and bolt into the night – no goodbyes, no difficult conversations. It would be as easy as breathing.”
I haven’t updated in a while. I’m not sure why to be honest. Writing is such a reflective activity for me but right now, it seems rather exhaustive. A week and a half of silence almost doesn’t seem long enough. I have been busy, that is for sure. I feel as though I closed my eyes for just a moment while in New York, and woke up in the oh-so-familiar newsroom here in D.C., surrounded by faded cubicles and the faint smell of paper. I’m not exactly sure how it happened – I just know it did. I remember sitting in the bus on the corner of 34th and 7th and looking out the window at my sister, who was waiting patiently for my ride to drift off into the darkness of the night. Although I live in a world where closure is a necessity, I would rather of gone without it. Because while saying goodbyes has become a norm in my life, I’ve realized they do not get easier. In fact, they only get harder. I remember my sister saying that she wishes she could simply “pack up and bolt into the night – no goodbyes, not difficult conversations. It would be as easy as breathing.” I wish I was more like that. Then the pictures in my mind would never change. They would would remain exactly as they were – as though I was returning.
Oh dear, I’m rambling. Even worse, I’m mulling over things I’ve already shared before – I guess it always seems to be a nagging conversation in my mind. Can’t seem to tackle that one.