while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now?

I'm still in my coat, I still have my jeans on. No pjs. Not yet.

I think I'm too sentimental. I really do. I think I hold on to too much; I think I look back too much. I have too much trouble letting go. Friendships, relationships, phases, years and parts of my life. I can't see the past as just "the past". I'm not one of those people who can just take something from it all and move on, head held high and gaze directed straight ahead. I never have been and I don't think I ever will be.

I spent 6 years in total at the same school. For 6 years I drove the same route; took the same train; got on and off at the same stops; walked the same streets; frequented the same libraries; used the same bathrooms (too many bathrooms lol); saw the same sun at the same time in the same place in the sky; smelled the same smells in the same buildings.....for 6 years. For 5 of those years I did it all on my own. For 5 years, I did my own thing-- and loved it. I loved my alone time. Because I need my alone time. Listening to my own music, finding my own stride, moving at my own pace, just going with it...ahh, Love. It was perfect.

But when I go back now--when I drive that same route; when I take that same train; when I get on and off at those same stops; when I walk those same streets; when I see that same sun; when I smell those same smells and yes, even when I go to those same bathrooms--I don't remember those 5 years. I remember the last year. I remember the 1 year, the 6th year. The year that was hardest; the year that was uncomfortable in any and every way; the year that afforded me no real alone time whatsoever, where Alone could only come when we were Together; the year where I was forced to follow another rhythm, to be moved by a different kind of music; the year that, for almost every reason, I would never want to do over--but, for a select few, I would in a heartbeat.
The year that was Different.

Maybe I oversimplify things sometimes. Maybe, in doing so, I make them more complicated than they are. Maybe I try to keep things the same when they can't be. Maybe I try to go back when and where its not immediately possible. People come and people go and things change, definitely. And 5-Year-Me doesn't even notice that kind of stuff; 5-Year-Me is too lost in her own world, in her own thoughts and goals and concerns to care. 5 Year-Me has her iPod on and can't hear anything that's going on around her. But Last-Year-Me does. Last-Year-Me tells 5-Year-Me that sometimes being uncomfortable and frustrated and stressed out is worth it. Because people, friendships and relationships are more comforting than that solitary latte on a cold but relaxing afternooon, no matter how cozy the corner; they're more important than getting it all done, everyday, day in and day out, without fail; they're more meaningful than the successful completion of yet another task, another A on another paper.

Last-Year-Me tells 5-Year-Me that being Together is better than being Alone, no matter what is lost in the process. Last-Year-Me tells 5-Year-Me that sometimes things changing, things being different, things not being what you expect them to be, can be the Best Possible Thing--if you just let them be.

Last-Year-Me tells 5-Year-Me to just be Open. Hearted.