Do you ever get that feeling that you’re looking back at yourself, while in yourself, and you can actually see your life, without all the lies you use to cover up the imperfections?

And then you think, “Who’s life is this?”

And then there’s a snap back and you remember that it’s your life, for a reason.


I’m on the train, heading home. I’m too giddy, really, to be getting any work done. I’ve only been away from home for something like 40 hours, but it feels like far too long. I text my partner, over and over, lonely, alone, missing him beyond belief, feeling un-grounded. What a feeling to be a queen beside you, somehow.

The problem is not the distance, or the time. It’s something deeper, something that grows out of my stomach, around my hipbones. 

I don’t really know what it is.


The things I want in life are dreams, big dreams, and I’m always labeled an overachiever.

But sometimes I wonder how much easier it would be to just be an underachiever. I read an article about it the other day, a woman talking about how she always just lives in the moment and doesn’t try to achieve anything remarkable, just to support herself and enjoy her life, and have a happy family.

And then I think, all I want is to live in the moment, enjoy life, and have a happy family. Everybody needs someone around.


I need to get a bunch of things done this weekend, and I have good plans to do it. Write for my internship, write for class, get some exercise, do dishes, make some food, do something fun, do dishes, do laundry, do dishes…

Mostly, I want to get off this train and see my partner. I stand in the window, watching the train pull into the station, and I see him, standing there against the car, a stress-cigarette burning out in his hand. But you’ve got stars in your eyes. I want to  wrap myself into him, what a feeling to be right here beside you now, holding you in my arms, remember that this is a real life, that everything will work out eventually.

Mostly, I won’t get anything done this weekend.


Some day in the future, I imagine, I’ll have that normal life I want. I won’t have to thank the universe that the college I wanted to go to was only sixty miles from my home. I won’t have to compromise on how many nights I can spend at home in my own bed, or how often I can eat a normal breakfast at a normal hour with my partner. I won’t feel like I’m just barely struggling to survive, creating a small mountain of mediocre work – some day I’ll actually be living.

The problem here is how much I wish that day was today.

Not because I don’t accept that this is a step my life has to take. I’m grateful to be here.

No, it’s mostly because I have such a clear vision of the life I want. To be able to sleep in my own bed, with my partner, every night. To have a little home that’s actually put together because we’re planning on staying there. To have a small business, something fun and creative for our community. To write books and small things for publication, anything really, just to write in a logical, routine manner. What a feeling to be a queen beside you, now.

That’s all I want.

Small, neat, bright, clean, routine.

A normal life. 

I wish I could be there now.