I wrote my deepest, darkest fear on a notecard last night and watched as it was dropped into a fire. Surrounded by over one hundred sisters who I know would fight my demons for me at the drop of a hat, we watched as everything we thought that was holding us back, or keeping us from being our best selves burned in that campfire.

As someone who takes things almost a little bit too symbolic at times, I hate to say that I woke up today with the same fears that had been burned the night before. Shortly after our fears were reduced to soot and ashes, I lay in a field with two people with whom I have formed a remarkable closeness with over the past year that they have been in my life. I voiced my thoughts of maybe staying at Illinois State for graduate school, or somewhere closer, I was met with a strong response to do the opposite. I should go far and do big things, because I have more ambition than to stay with the familiar, to have the adventure I've been talking about, and to go somewhere amazing so that my friends could come visit.

In a nutshell, I heard exactly what I wanted to hear. That this dream of mine is not something that seems outlandish and foolish to others. What I am missing, however was the exact solution as to how to get over the fact that I am utterly terrified to leave behind everything I have come to accumulate in the past four years here. Things that seem more valuable to me than almost anything to me in the world.

How do I take the chance that Boston, Baltimore, Seattle, or Austin will have the some of the things that I have here? I know for a fact that I won't see my sisters every Monday night, get notes spelled in incorrect synonyms, or even know the bouncers everywhere right away. Will I still have that same sense of comfort and familiarity I feel when I'm driving down Vernon and know what side streets to turn on if I'm running a little late to work? I'm nearly sure I won't have a batch of kindergarteners to follow me around offering me life wisdom in graduate school, or whatever I decide to do.

And on that note, what in the hell do I want to do with myself? I can see myself doing so many different things this time next year that I probably should do a drawing or a raffle to pick what would fit me best. Do I want to do Americorps to garner some experience and loan forgiveness, and also to live out the lifestyle I've come to enjoy so much during my time with Alternative Breaks? Do I volunteer in Kenya for a little while to experience something completely different and get closer with my cousin, all while seeing how the other half of the world lives? Do I go to graduate school and bust my ass for another two years, meanwhile procrastinating growing up for just a bit longer by punctuating work with football games, bar nights, and meeting new friends? Do I apply for jobs and go wherever life takes me, even if that means moving back home to kick it with my parents for a while?

I guess in a sense I am fortunate enough to have so many options, to be able to weigh all of this now, almost seven months before I have to actually say goodbye. Unfortunately everyone knows that too many cooks spoil the soup, and an overstimulated and overthinking Denise just ends in a lot of lists, tears and organization.

Just some thoughts, needed to get everything out before the week started.

xoxo

just some things.

"To live would be an awfully big adventure" -JM Barrie

I have come to realize, perhaps more suddenly that I would have liked to, about how life has a tendency to play out. Just yesterday, I was waking up and leaving my house for the first indefinite period of time, and beginning my journey at college. Before I know it, it'll be time to leave the world I have come to know and be so fond of. And I suppose this all is fine, because for the first time in a while, some sort of adventure seems extremely attainable. That now, if not ever, is the perfect time to do something just because I feel like it. There is nothing holding me to one place or thing other than commonality and some minors thing called money and getting accepted into graduate school. You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take. So why not?

I have learned that no matter how hard you work or fight for something, sometimes it's just plain broken and was never worth the effort from the start. That is probably the single most exhilarating and soothing realization you can come to. To simply throw something away, whether literally or figuratively, after you have spent an agonizing amount of time to try and mend it so it will just work for once, is wonderful.

Listen. Listen listen listen, because there will come a time when you regret not having listened closely enough, when a detail has disappeared and you can't simply call up the person and ask them to elaborate anymore. If only it were possible to remember every funny story, piece of advice, or comment, perhaps we would not feel so lost ourselves after losing someone we love.

Fall in love with the world in a way you have never looked at it before. Something about the universe seems a lot lighter than it used to, and I'm not truly sure I know why. Each morning seems a little brighter than the last, despite disappointingly cloudy and rainy summer days.

Although none of my thoughts lately seem to follow any sort of organized process or structure, maybe it's because there seems to be so much life to be living, that to waste any time on formalities would be a shame.

images

In boredom of not being able to sleep, I got the strange urge to look at pictures from prom my sophomore year of high school. As I've become so accustomed, I opened iPhoto and looked for the tab like it was any other occasion before I realized that while it might seem like a recent memory, that was six years ago, and pictures from that long ago were definitely not easily accessible. It's almost as if that whole night didn't even happen anymore, the dress I wore is hazy in my mind, I remember only a few people who seemed to stick out, and next to nothing is remarkable.

And then I got to thinking about it, about our reliance today with some sort of tangible evidence to be able to associate something with a memory. About how even though I was too young to really take anything out of it, I remember my grandma and grandpa taking me to the park one winter night and dragging me around in a box or a wagon, or something and wrapped me in a plaid wool blanket. Any time that I see any sort of red plaid, I can immediately hear my grandpa laughing and feel the snowflakes on my skin, and the sweaty coolness of being a little kid playing outside in the wintertime. A few notes from a song can take me back to Spring Valley Way before I even knew what a college campus looked like, and hadn't even had braces or been to high school.

So maybe an image on a screen isn't quite necessary to remember a moment, a time or a place. Sometime's all that's necessary is the wind to blow a certain way and that's all I need to take me back to the hills of Athens on a hot summer day, or to the first time I was out past midnight. To the first time I ever got broken up with, or to the sweet smell of chlorine on a summer morning, or sitting at The Spot with the people who made my world go round at the time, some that still matter and others that don't.

Time has come to pass since all of the things I no longer have some sort of tangible image of, in some cases a lot, and in others not as much. One thing that has always served me well is my memory. The second happens to be my laptop's hard drive. Don't fail me now.