Run away.

All of my life I've dreamed of "better" places. Of running away.

I romanticized about Paris and Greece, wishing to be basking away in the sun by the sea and sipping coffee in a little bakery down the street from my apartment.

I played out scenarios of living in little villages in Africa and traveling all up and down Central America.

I've planned trips around the States in my mind, stopping wherever I pleased, never having a map or agenda. Working odds and ends jobs and being whoever I wanted to be.

All I have ever wanted is adventure.

Traveling at such a young age, I've acquired some wisdom and knowledge about the ways of the world. I've had cultural experiences I could never have imagined in my 11-year old brain. I've met beautiful people along my journey. Inspiring, creative, motivated, loving, wild, visionary kinds of people. Kids with big smiles and big hearts. Friends that have left a tremendous impact on my heart.

So every time I've come back to my small town, the same small town I spent 18 years of my life in, I get antsy. I get this rushing, overwhelming urge to run, to get out, to experience, to adventure, to be somewhere else. It's been like a thorn in my side. I never feel satisfied.

What am I doing wrong? What is the underlying problem here?
I want, need, have to be satisfied.

I honestly enjoy my life. I enjoy every minute, I look for all the positive and good. I cherish the people around me, my family, my beautiful friends, my coworkers, my classmates. I try as much as I can to experience new things around me and to point out the small, wonderful things happening in my life. And I'm happy.

So what's the problem?

I think the problem is me.

I'm not satisfied with me.

Open up.

There are so many things to see and think about in the world.

So many things to challenge us, to delight us, to frighten us.

So many wild, outrageous feelings.

So many upsetting, horrible things happening.

So many new, beautiful events unfolding.

So much of everything.

How can our brains ever get bored?

Disconnect.

I have a phone that can connect me to anything and anyone at any time I want it to.

If I need to know how to say "hello" in Welsh, it could tell me that.
If I need directions to San Francisco, I can pull them up in less than two minutes.
If I want to know where the closest McDonald's is, no problem.

I can talk to my friends every second of the day through miscellaneous texts or phone calls.

Somehow...in the midst of all this "connection," all I feel is a huge disconnect.

Lately, I find myself sitting around in some random coffee shops. I frequent one in particular because the people are friendly and the atmosphere makes it pretty easy to talk to others. I feel this enormous need to physically be around people. Their presence somehow reminds me I'm a human. That's one thing my phone can't do.

It will never replace a deep look into someone else's eyes. The smell of coffee and the goofy smile of the woman handing it to me. The sound of a hard, guttural laugh. It has nothing on a conversation that you can get lost in. Listening so intently that the world around you disappears. As your friend gets up to use the restroom, you are suddenly hit with the realness of another person's presence. The realness of your own presence. The connectivity of it all. Something in you is alive.

I just want to stop numbing myself with silly things that get me through the day. I want to feel alive with other people, to feel the full intensity of my being. I want to connect through smiles and hello's and good vibes. Through friendly waves and silly chit chat. Through hard questions and uncontrollable laughter. I want others to want to connect. I want them to know I'm listening. That I care. That their presence and being matter to me. Fully, 100%.

At this coffee shop, I've been learning a lot, not only about connection with others, but about myself. There is a man that frequents the place who has taught me a lot about connecting. He's a bit older and looks slightly homeless. I see him almost every time I go in and he always has a smile and a nice compliment for me. The first time I met him, I will shamefully admit that my first instinct was to ignore him. Instead, I decided to take the time to communicate with him. It's a bit harder, you see, because he doesn't talk. He only uses motions and it's like a confusing, laughter-filled game of charades trying to figure out what he's saying. But it's worth it. He's so kind and good. He has a very sweet soul and just wants to connect with people. He has to connect with people. He has no choice.

I need to stop taking the choice to connect for granted.
I want to commit to it, to listening, to encouraging, to reaching out and becoming a better connector, a better friend.
And that's my challenge right now...to get rid of the disconnect.

Mourn

Mourn for her quickly

Because the day doesn't wait

It doesn't hold your tears

Or stop for

Your regrets

But simply

Tickles your cheek

To remind you

Of now

To remind you

Of a place

Further ahead

That doesn't exist

When you

Mourn.

I’ve spent so much time
Trying to escape
Trying to unwind
Pushing myself into a little box
Closed around the edges
Big enough that they won’t find me
Pushing away the thoughts
Climbing higher,
Digging deeper,
But never fully getting away
Only to find myself missing
Missing out on everything
That I wanted
That I dreamed about
That I thought was out of my reach
When it was really
In my hands already

Now I’m looking back
To see the times
The times I should have
Grasped

But they are no longer times
They are memories of what could have been



And now is the choice:

To be more or to hesitate longer

Nothing.

Nothing.
It meant nothing.
Your words, your thoughts, your face.
They all meant nothing.

And I’m left sitting here
In a puddle of my own emotions


With nothing.

Repeat.

I want to write something interesting, but my mind can't wrap itself around words right now.

I'm on repeat, repeat, repeat.