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When you get used to living a certain way—used to measuring your life, and maybe even your worth in a certain way—it’s so much easier to keep going in an old rhythm than to try to pick up one you’ve never known.
the mindset that’s driven me these past few years. But everything in my life that I’ve put on hold because of it.
the pieces I haven’t picked up. The mess I’ve been ignoring.
Blue Ridge State is my chance to begin again, but I still have to look back if I want to look ahead.
The things that I want are things I haven’t let myself consider. Things I’m not sure I can even have.
I want to love and be loved without ever having to wonder if it’s conditional.
want a life that is sometimes just my own, without feeling like I’m responsible for anyone or anyone is burdene...
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“Welcome to The Knights’ Watch, Squire.”
“Do you think if you can wait it out, you can make it work?”
that’s the curious thing about Milo. I’m always aware of him.
“In the end, you have to follow your heart,”
“Go make the most out of it, because every day is a chance to begin again.”
If you were doing stuff and nobody knew it was you, would it scare you then? Back then I thought it made me feel safe.
it might have just made me feel small.
the energy of talking to someone in real time,
more than the friends who quietly believed I could do it, and waited for me to believe in myself.
The thing is, there is plenty to overthink. Namely the fear that’s rippled like
trying to ground myself in the reality of what’s happening, to decide what comes next.
I’m used to things falling through.
I would never, ever ask him to do the same for me.
“Have you thought about what your life would be like there?”
Bad things happen, and you just think of foods you like to eat?”
“I contain multitudes.”
“You’re good, Milo. To the people you love and the people you don’t.”
“Knowing they probably don’t miss me half as much.”
“What are you scared of?”
The difference is what’s at stake. The difference is that despite everything—despite the plans and the dreams and carefully curated lists I’ve made all on my own—I sometimes feel like I have no sense of who I really am.
There’s almost a relief in the understanding.
ridiculously ambitious color-coded dreams of yours to come true.”
In a way that makes me feel too seen, but just enough at the same time.
the best kind of practice—learning from your mistakes.”
“What do you want to remember about this place after you leave?”
I want to remember laughing with my friends.
Setting my ribbons down next to my mom’s.
Quiet walks in the a...
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“You kids are all so focused on doing too much. So much of everything all the time. What you need is balance. Priorities.”
“You need to decide what’s important to you, or then nothing is important.
The way I’ve been throwing myself into so many things that I can’t quite give my whole self anywhere. Not to the things that matter most. Not just the things that matter while I’m here, but during whatever comes next.
what do you want out of this experience?
I’ve been let down too many times to pin my hopes on anything.
“Love you, A-Plus.” I press the phone closer to my ear. “I love you, too.”
It feels warm and energizing. Like a challenge.
“Maybe that’s the problem. We’ve got our own separate interests.
people aren’t necessarily looking for advice. They just want somebody to hear them. They just want to know that they’re not alone.
the idea that you can help sometimes just by being there. No fix-it urge. Just understanding.
feeling more universal than most: that constant, human worry of wondering whether you’re enough.
“Go make the most out of it, because every day is a chance to begin again.”
I feel solid. Like what I’m made of finally matches what I want.
“It’s important to you. It’s not ‘making a big deal’ out of anything.”
It’s just that the things I write? They’re mine. They’re just mine.
