Sad Story

So, I’m feeling mildly sorry for myself, sitting here counting down the days. Three weeks, more or less, is my time here. I was angry. I couldn’t determine why I was angry, only that I was. I’m still angry, but more sad now, a happy sad.

Part of me wants to leave today, just pack up and go, no goodbyes, just gone. Part of me wants to linger, wait until the last possible moment, hold the embrace.

I have said goodbye so many times before this. I have said hello just as many. Kaeru. I return. I have been here longer than ever before. Friendships go deeper, histories are stronger, saturated with life.

The part of me which is angry, rails against the unfairness. That I should find family here, where life is simple and easy, but not there. I look upon my life at home and I see loneliness. I see many nights spent at home with only my cat for company. I see many mornings working in an empty studio. I see the parties and the late nights and the goings on which everyone else is still sleeping off, not including me.

Yet, the squirrel of my mind, bored and idle for so long now, waits for the lush oak trees of my home. I am eager. I already work on my studio design project in my head. I am ready to learn. I look forward to my classes: Society & Culture in Architecture, Professional Practice, Design Studio, and Basic Equitation, my fun class. I want the challenge. I look forward to seeing the architecture library again, walking around campus and looking at the flowers, riding my bicycle, and shopping at the farmer’s market.

Why can these two disparate worlds not share the same space? Why does it always have to be one, but not the other? Bringing them together lasts such a short time.

I am happy. I have in my life the two things I crave most now, many strong friendships and many opportunities for intellectual growth. I can honesty say life is good. Dammit! That doesn’t seem to have a lot of impact on my desire for it to be better. Though, if I look deeper, I‘m sure I will see that it is already perfect.

This, too, is the suffering of attachment.