Blah, Blah, Blah, every one complains. It's inescapable. But I miss what life was like when I was in France. It was so different, so much more simple. I had friends, and they loved me for who I was, no matter what I did or how I acted. If I was down they comforted me without being invasive. They hugged me and did everything they could to cheer me up. They never asked what was wrong unless I was willing to put forth informatino first. There were no questions like "What's wrong?" "Why aren't you having fun?" "Why are you grumpy?" "Why don't you want to go out?" They would just grab my hand and pull me along and into things they knew I loved so I could lose myself in those things. It was amazing how well they knew me for having known each other for such a short amount of time. I guess it was the intense circumstances and all, and because we all had to start from scratch, and it was hard for all of us at the beginning and we needed each other to get through. I miss that. I'm glad to be home, to have my familly, but at the same time I'm ready for new friends. I'm tired of the ones I have now. They just don't seem to understand me, and it leaves me feeling incrediably lonely. Oh well. It'll get better.


The Sky's Falling

So I'm not a hurricane victem, but emotionally I feel devastated, perhaps not to the extent that they are, but perhaps similar. I feel as if there's no ground beneath my feet, as if my head is spinning 'round and 'round, like I have no future, as if my past was just a story told to me, not actually experienced. It's weird to be back here, at home, the one place I feel moderately grounded, but it feels lacking because I experienced things, met people, made new best friends while I was abroad, and while one goes to my school and I see her occasionally, I desperately miss the daily, constant contact of these people that I imtimately shared my life with. For five months I knew exactly who i was. I never questioned my place or my actions within my group. Now I'm here and for some reason incrediably lost. Actually I kind of get the lostness. I was one person before I left. I was myself while I was gone. Now that I'm home I'm having to reconcile those two things. It's hard. Especially since three of my best friends all went abroad together in another country and don't seem to have really changed at all. So I suppose that's why I burst into tears tonight because my little sister was too drunk to really care about the birthday present I got her. No big deal. It was her 21st. She's supposed to be drunk. I guess I cling too much to such material things. If I were her, I would have kept track of that bag all night, especially if I liked it as much as she seemed to and if I knew it meant as much to her as it meant to me that she like it. But she always seems to find other things, other people, to focus on. No big deal. My fault I suppose. But around certain people she changes into a completely different person, a person I don't like very much. My little sister, the cameleon. Maybe I'll get a new one, one who'll love me.