georginasand | Family For All Kinds of Orphans (Reply)

“‘Nothing’ said Piglet, talking Pooh's paw, 'I just wanted to be sure of you.' “~A.A. Milne the House at Pooh Corner

Big week, more details of which will probably end up on the pride thread, but some of the events (and their effects) are worth mentioning.

I have never been in a romantic relationship, not even the third grade sit-together-at-lunch-and-hold-hands-at-recess kind, and no one not related by blood has ever kissed me. Even in forth grade, boys (like fish) were friends not food (do NOT let your mind go there; I wanted to made a joke). In the best circumstances this has let me be independent and self sufficient, but in the worst circumstances has made me a tad desperate and a little jumpy around Y-chromosomes (that last part I'll usually (read: always) deny, but it's true nonetheless.

Some, but not most, of this changed on Monday. Now before you panic or Merry falls off her chair there, in reality it was nothing major: a very nice goodbye hug and a kiss on the forehead by a good (and decidedly male) friend. But as you can imagine from the previously described situation, that in the moment my head just about exploded. This was complicated by the fact that I was leaving for college in the morning and that this was a very complicated boy (three guess Merry, the first two don't count). And there were more minor explosions between the moment I fled the scene so he wouldn't see me cry, and like 48 hours later when I managed to wrap my head around it.

The point is not that there is something there, because there isn't, and even if there is it is going to have to go away because at the moment we are half a country away from each other and theoretically pursing educations. That and the fact that despite our friendship, I could happily remove his entrails and roast them on a spit because of things he's done to my friends.

The point is what I've realized about my friends. I finally, after 48 hours, including 6 spent driving through Iowa and thinking of very little else, and a gentle push from another friend who understands these things better than I, categorized it as a protective gesture, almost a blessing, from a very good friend. A blessing that I carried with me through the first days of college almost as a talisman (what me blowing things totally out of proportion...you must be kidding) as a reminder that he, and a whole heck of a lot of other people who I miss and love very much, care about me and think not only that I am not going to fail at this college business, but also that I am worth caring about. I'm not sure why this was such a shock, but I guess it was.

Since then I've only had one "I don't want new friends, I want my old friends back" moment, which is a miracle. Because even though I have clicked beautifully with the kids on my floor and my roommates, I keep wondering if they will be as good as my friends now. I keep looking, not to replace the friends that I adore so much, but to find equivalents for the time I am away. I keep looking, trying to guess who will squee over x-files with me (one x-files fan found, but he's not really the squeeing type, also there's a guy who looks like David Tenet, same nose), who will eat lunch with me and let me rant about school without telling me that I'm over reacting. I wonder who will help me with French homework when the plus-que-parfait just won't make sense (okay, hopefully the Senegalese roommate will take that job) or who will agree with me that that last ballet combination was too fast, too difficult, and why yes, it feels does like gravity tripled. Will there be people to make fun of me because I can't spell and remind me that the stage is still black and the show will go on, when it feels like it won't.

Most people won't read this, actually only one, maybe two (Hi Gryff, you know I just realized I've always spelled your name wrong, and I'm really sorry), but it's true and I wanted to say it. I truly love you all, and indeed it is hard to say goodbye, when you feel like you haven't said hello enough.

I remain,
Georgie