Ode to

I cannot believe I have not written a bit since August. My life is entirely new, and perhaps that's why I've been neglecting this hobby of mine that is so essential to my wellbeing. When I am happy it's hard to write... perhaps that's why all the best artists were always alcoholics and suicide victims. When I start to feel lost I remember that writing is what I need. For me it's like a cool rag to the forehead during a fever; as the words flow, the temperature slowly fades into a peaceful rest.

I have many updates as you might've guessed since I haven't written in over four months. 2008 is approaching and I have a great deal on my mind. Living in Los Angeles is a wonderful and difficult thing all at once. I feel so stressed, overwhelmed, and somewhat lost one minute and perfectly at home the next. In fact, often those feelings intertwine in the same instant. I miss having my friends and family around me all the time. I'm really excited to take some time off and see everyone. I realize how truly independent I am now but that doesn't necessarily mean I feel good about it. I feel accomplished and happy but wish that I had someone to share all of it with. I know this is not a profound revelation by any means but the simplest of human needs. Perhaps I should take a few steps back and maybe get to the point... or digress from it I dunno.

In July of 2006 I was preparing myself to travel to West Africa for four months, where this blog began actually. It was an incredibly intense and strange time in my life. My nerves were a wreck, I was chain smoking constantly, living alone, and wondering what my life was going to look like in a couple of months when I wandered into a complete unknown. I knew the next year was going to be full of change and I didn't know at all in what direction. I majored in African Studies in school and going to Africa was the culmination of those years of my life. Going would determine if my college career had been appropriate or not. So, when I met a boy that summer, very unexpectedly on the street in my small college town one night, who wound up being my neighbor, it led to an interesting period in my life.

I'm not writing to write about Africa, or even about that boy really. I'm just writing to clear my head. To remember myself. I'm writing to unravel the many days that have passed when words have not flown from my fingers as I have mulled over the many thoughts of each day and lacked an outlet. I'm also writing to tell a story of who I was, who I am, and who I'd like to be, and to see if those people have anything in common with one another.

So, last July I found Benny on Court Street. He was quiet and subdued at first, which really sheds a lot of light on the person I now realize I don't understand at all. I suppose I have to admit that he was from day one, pretty damned ambiguous. Benny was by no means the ideal guy for me. He certainly didn't treat me the way I deserved to be treated. He'd disappear for weeks at a time with no call, no contact. He'd call in the middle of the night, high on coke and drunk on Jack Daniels and ask me to come and pick him up. I was stupid and gave in. He met me at a very vulnerable time in my life, when I was scared and lonely and needed desperately to feel any possible connection with another person. When he wasn't being downright awful he did have his moments of charm as well. He made me laugh and he made me think about things in a new way. He treated me like an old friend and I felt an immediate comfort around him. For a few months we ran to and fro between each other's houses in the middle of the night. We'd fight and then make up and then make love and then we'd spend the day sleeping, say goodbye and not ask when we'd talk again or what we were doing later. The moments together were what they were, we didn't ask about the past, or even about the present, we simply lent ourselves to one another without question or curiosity. One night, though, I really needed someone... and he came. He comforted me. My grandma was sick and he had lost his and he got it completely. His tattoo for her was evidence of their bond and we had that in common.

A month passed and my time began to wane. My fear was growing ferociously and my excitement was building. Benny and I bade each other goodbye without much consequence. I honestly didn't believe I'd ever see him again. You see, we went to school in Ohio but while I was moving to Africa he was moving to California and if you're American then you know that Ohio- Africa is just about as far as Ohio-California. And yet I went, somewhat reluctantly, in the opposite direction of this new and interesting person to fulfill my dream. A person who I knew was probably bad for me but who excited me and made me feel something I have only felt a couple times in my life. I'm not being articulate here because I still to this day cannot describe that feeling further because I simply don't understand it.

I went to Africa in September and moved in with a Senegalese family. My host brother pursued me almost immediately and I tried to resist him. He was persistent, however, and I wound up breaking one of the cardinal rules of host family life and having an incredibly serious relationship with my sibling. I felt that I was in love. I don't know anymore if I was or not. It's impossible to understand all the feelings I was going through during that time in my life and if what we shared was love I just don't know anymore. I'd like to think that it was, though. It was a strained love, however. It was on a limited time only basis and though I tried to plan for a future with Alex a part of me always knew that was the case. And so I looked on and wondered what life would be like in the future, in America, in Ohio... and I wondered about Benny. We sent a few messages while I was overseas but it felt as impossible as my relationship with Alex was since coming back to Ohio still meant a huge chasm between us.

My life changed so much in Africa... I've talked about that in many blogs past and it feels so far gone that I wish not to discuss it now because it will only serve to torment my emotions even further. I came home almost exactly a year ago now and spent several weeks feeling utterly lousy. I missed my boyfriend and felt so empty and helpless to change what had become of us. I felt a loss, as if something had died. I suppose it had really... not just something, but a part of myself. So, as time passed and the reality of my life here began to set in I ended my relationship with Alex, which by that point seemed almost silly. I hated to undermine the importance of what we'd had because it was very real at the time. If I hadn't been in love with Alex I certainly loved him. He treated me like a queen and he was a wonderful, hardworking, sincere and kind person. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him except that he lived an ocean away from me on another continent. Such is the downside of traveling I suppose.

Nonetheless, I began talking more frequently to Benny. He said things like, "California is not that far away" and through these chats my curiosity was born again. So for six long months I tried to plan a way out to him. I thought if I could just see him and we could talk, if we could know that the last time we saw each other wasn't the last time, then maybe... maybe something might just really be happening. I couldn't get away from school though and so I was forced to wait until June, after graduation. It was agonizing in some ways. To be back and walk past his old house all the time and wish so much that I could just drop by and see him. Just see him. The waiting continued. Sometimes he would revert to his ways of being inconsiderate. I wouldn't hear from him for long periods of time and I would get determined to forget I ever met him. I would delete his number and try to stop thinking about him and always, like a homing pigeon, in just a few days or hours, always he was right there with a call or a text as if he knew that at that moment I was forgetting.

So in June I came to California and I was nauseous when he came to visit. I was so nervous and excited to see him, it was something I really hadn't expected would happen. We went out that first night and had an okay time, nothing too special. Just getting reacquainted, but as soon as we got in the cab he grabbed my face and kissed me and it just felt so incredibly right, it was spine-tingling. We hung out for the next several days after that, with really no more kissing, but just being together and enjoying each other. I met his mom and saw a new side of him, the side that I had only glimpsed in Ohio but that had kept me interested. I had an incredible time with him. I felt so content. Just as if I didn't care what anyone else in the world was doing when he was there; I was grounded.

And then once again we said goodbye. It was more difficult this time because it had been so perfect. Our time together so absolutely good. Leaving felt like tearing off a band-aid. One you try to leave on to avoid the sting as long as possible. I went back to Ohio and I waited again. A couple months later I got in my car with my father and we drove west for six days with whatever belongings I could squeeze.

I didn't move for Benny. I have loved the very idea of California for as long as I can remember. I longed to go to school here but couldn't afford it. Moving here seemed like a dream but when my brother did it two years ago it became more like a possibility. My week with Benny helped to make my decision a little easier. It was nice to know I'd have a good friend nearby and it definitely strengthened the wondering of what might be if we were in the same state again and not going anywhere for a while. Yet regardless of him California has made me indescribably happy since the day I started towards it. Everyday I look out my kitchen window, drive south a little and see the beautiful Hollywood hills in the distance, or go to Venice and see all the diversity and watch the beach at sunset, I know I made the right choice in coming here. I don't know how long I'll stay but I don't regret it a bit.

I came with no idea of what I'd do with myself and I've done really well. I got a part time job tutoring kids in math and language arts and then began volunteering at Relief International and interning at Amnesty International. After a couple months I got an offer from my current employer, Peace Action West, as a Development Associate. My job is to meet with major donors and update them on our campaigns and successes. The organization has a fascinating history of grassroots work and lobbying. We activate people who may or may not normally be politically active and give them an avenue to participate. We help them connect themselves to the political process in a most basic way that many Americans have forgotten. Through this politicians become accountable again because their constituents are paying attention and participating. We remind people that Congress is representing them and that if they aren't talking they won't be heard. Our goals are to create a better US foreign policy and basically to save the world from assured destruction from war, nuclear weapons, insanity, and greed. It's a great job and I've learned a ton working there. I feel so lucky to have gotten it but it has it's downsides as well.

It's actually a lot more emotionally draining than you'd think to research politics and the state of the world for a living. It's discouraging at times. Sometimes I start to think that maybe there really isn't hope for change. I used to read about politics when I came home from work and watch documentaries, constantly filling my every waking minute with knowledge about the world and the state it's in. Finally I realized that I was going to make myself nuts and socially unacceptable so I decided to start reading a good novel sometimes and occasionally try spending the day not thinking about the big picture and just enjoying life.

I will certainly be writing more about work in the future because it is a huge part of my new life. Right now just isn't the time because I'm distracted.

So, now here I am in California, working full time, not seeing Benny, not even sure if Benny thinks of me beyond the confines of his friendly obligations. I'm going back to Ohio in three days for the holidays and I have never felt that I needed a vacation so badly. The real world is slapping me in the face with loan repayments and bills and I never seem to even come close to catching up. I wanted to be in Africa again by now, in the Peace Corps. I'm fine with this alternative for now but I'm not sure what I'm doing. I'm teetering. I don't need to decide anything now but I wonder, will I stay at Peace Action for more than a year? Will I join the Peace Corps even though I began reading that book that talks about how terrible it is? Will I do it just because I really want to go to grad school and don't see how I can if I don't join? Am I beginning to settle someplace? That frightens me.

And anyway, I feel it's time to start over... start over without that feeling of waiting for him. I had this sense that I was just waiting my turn and then I'd have my chance to find out what we missed out on when I flew away last year. Our timing was never right and I was just waiting for that to change. A part of me hoped he might want that somehow too. That perhaps there was a connection that could transcend time and distance but, I think it's time to let go of that. I think it's been way too long and that perhaps I have been very wrong the whole time.

That kiss we had in the cab, that night he came over and stayed up all night talking to me to make me forget that my grandma was sick, that night we trekked to Venice beach and laid there less time than it took to get the 18 buses home, all those minutes of insanity and bliss all mixed together in a cocktail of feeling, it's definitely not easy for me to let go of. But, alas- it is the new year so I suppose there's no better time to try.