Loss.

"Losing hope is easy
When your only friend is gone
And every time you look around
Well, it all, it all just seems to change" ~ Jack Johnson


When you lose something, it's usually quick…I lost my cougar card the other day, just left it on the bus Saturday night I think, it was fast, I didn't even realize it until the next day. You lose a game, quick. It doesn't hurt, it's not painful…and you get over it. But these are all material things, losing things with an emotional attachment comes with more heartache.


I lost a glass bowl that was my great-grandmothers when we were moving; it fell and shattered into hundreds of tiny glass fractures on my floor. I didn't clean it up. I just sat on the floor next to the glass crying for hours. It was the last material object I had that was hers. I was close to my great-grandma. I mean I still have memories, but that's all. Still, this loss was quick. It's when the loss is slow that we really feel the pain. Especially when you are the one that decides it's time to move on.


I lost a friend. We've been friends for years…I think since 4th grade, maybe even longer. We've had amazing times and hard times, like most friendships. But it wasn't until I moved that I started to lose her. When I went home in December for Christmas we hung out once, I helped her pick out Christmas presents. We made plans to hang out more, but she blew me off to hang out with her boyfriend. When I got back to Pullman I called her a bunch of times, but she never called me back. I was pissed and ready to give up. Then finally one day she called and I let it go. I hate being mad at people and having that anger inside of me was eating me alive. We were fine for a while. Then I went home for Spring Break in March. Same situation happened. We made plans to hang out and she blew me off again. I called her multiple times, and then finally decided that enough was enough. It's like that quote "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me." I'm sick of putting forth effort for a friendship when I'm not getting anything back, it doesn't work like that. It hurts. And it will hurt every time I think about it. But I'm better than that. I know I am, I have people here and at home that care…Cass, Amber, Tiffany, and Augustine. They've showed me how friends are supposed to be, and what she and I had wasn't it. I never knew it would be so hard to let someone go…but it's time. I tried again one more time on Monday…no response. Sometimes I want to just cry because I'm so upset, others I just don't care…it all depends on the day. But I do miss her.


"But hanging on is easy
When you've got a friend to call
When nothings making sense at all
You're not the only one that's afraid of change" ~ Jack Johnson

Life is...

A wise person I know and love once said

"To be totally comfortable with myself and not hold anything back would be the ultimate reward to the ultimate challange."

Life is...

beautiful/precious/yours/lovely/ever-changing/time/ happiness/hope/sorrow/doubt/love/caring/
loss/failure/strenght/guidance/truth

and so much more.

But no matter how hard it gets, no matter how much we hurt, it will always be worth living.

Life is...

grass growing on a summers day/a shooting star in a clear sky/
a rainbow on an otherwise grey day/the last day of high school/
tears/happiness/memories

It's a warm bed or a familiar smile, a hug and a wave. It's growing up in the moments you feel so adolescent. It's taking pictures on an expired camera during red lights, it's eating lavender ice cream at mallards, it's driving around only singing with no destination. It's taking a blank page and making it yours. It's not knowing what is going to happen next and embracing that.

Life is...

Helping others while at the same time accepting help when you need it.
It's loving and learning, hoping and dreaming, singing and dancing, sharing and caring. But most importantly, life is a gift from God.

Life...

It should never be taken for granted or abused, it may end at any time. Some die too young, while others live long lives. But no one knows which of those two they will be. Love yourself and those around. Remember the little things that will always make a difference. Remember the people you love and tell them you love them.

And remember, life... is merely a gift.

Decency.

Decency: the state or quality of being decent.
Decent: suitable; appropriate; respectable; worthy. Conforming to the recognized standard.

The standard. A standard known as decency, but if it is so much of a standard why do so many people lack it? people in this world lack the standard of decency. Why is that? having the decency to tell the truth, having the decency to help others, having the decency to keep the promises you make.

People need to find their decency again, without it the world is...well,

indecent.

Change.

Everything about this is different. So much has changed. Sometimes I feel like I was somehow standing still, while everything around me was racing past. Like in those movies where they just stare blankly out into nothingness, not really noticing the chaos. Except for in my reality, I could see it. I could see the chaos and I could feel it, but that’s it. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t touch it and definitely couldn’t do anything to change it. I know that it’s true that people come in and out of your life. Leave you breathless, wondering what happened and where things went so astray. I get that, I understand that these things happen and people change. That part is clear. What is not as clear is the part that gets me every time, the part that leaves me feeling depressed and nostalgic; the how. How did we get to this point? It all happened so fast. Like a switch was turned and these people who were at one time so important to me, were gone. You were gone.

I sit back in my bed. Reading. There’s a line, or a phrase, something, just anything that reminds me of you. I can’t help it and I suddenly get this urge to call. But I don’t. I lay back down and realize that things are different. I can’t call and I can’t see you. I know things are like this for a reason. I know this is the way it is supposed to be, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering how you are. How they are. How did we get here? How did we get to this point where talking is effort and missing you is taboo?

“Had I tried a little harder to make you stay, would I still have your picture on display?”

Nah, and that’s okay.

Places.

I can’t explain it. No matter how hard I try it’s absolutely unexplainable. It’s a feeling. It’s a surge that runs through my body every time I arrive at this place. I see the sign and it’s completely automatic, I just can’t help but smile. This place is called Pullman, Washington.

Now, if you’ve been to Pullman, I’m sure there is one question running through your head, and that question is why? Why this place? And again, I can’t explain it. It’s not something that can be told, it can only be experienced. And once you experience it, it will never go away.

To even begin to explain why I love this place, I have to back track to a year ago.

Up until last August I had lived in the small farm town of Everson, Washington for 18 ½ years, which incidentally was my entire life. I had never known anything except for Everson, and to be completely honest, when August came I wasn’t so sure that I wanted to. I had great friends, and I loved my surroundings. Unlike a lot of people, my high school experience wasn’t bad. In fact, I was terrified to leave it. I put everything I had into my high school; I was in ASB and student council all four years and countless other clubs. My senior year I was ASB president and it was a difficult task that I loved more than anything. I was ASB. The terrifying part was that after high school I was left with nothing to define me, nothing to say “yes, that’s what I do with all of my extra time” because it was over. Gone. Done. No more ASB for Renae. What will I do now?

I didn’t know what to do. I spent my summer working, hanging out with friends and pretending that August was merely a figment of my imagination. I didn’t want to leave. I desperately regretted the fact that I never applied to Western. I hated the fact that I had to leave, had to grow up and move on. I had to decide what would now define me.

The first few weeks in Pullman were probably the worst in my life. I didn’t know anyone, didn’t know my way around campus and couldn’t wait the mere two weeks before I could go home for Labor Day and beg my parents not to make me come back. Labor Day came and I told my grandparents how I felt, their response: “we’re going to tell you the same thing we told your aunt when she said she wanted to come home, stay for a semester and if you’re still miserable, you can come home.” I thought I was going to die. A whole SEMESTER?! That’s 4 months of my life I would be wasting. I drove the 7 ½ hours back to Pullman feeling defeated and crying probably 2 hours worth of the trip.


A few days after returning to Pullman I wrote the following:

‘I decided something today, I decided that me not having a good time in Pullman, is all my fault. It's because I'm not letting myself. I feel so sad that I'm away from home, but im not looking on the bright side, when I should be. This is going to change, I'm going to make an effort to meet new people and I'm going to make the most of it. Besides, isn't that what growing up is all about? making decisions and moving on, I can't stay in Nooksack all my life and expect to be happy. It's like the lyrics from a song by Corey Crowder:

“So before you pack your things and go
There's one last thing that I want you to know
That you can't find happiness
If you won't let go.”

If being hung up on missing everyone is holding me back, its time that I let go. Not let go of the people or the places or the memories, but just let go of them to the point where theres room to make more memories, see more places and have more friends. Eventually things will work out. If I wasn't meant to be here, I wouldn't be. Coming home made me realize that as much as I love and miss that place, its all i've ever known, how am I supposed to know anything except for Everson if I don't step outside my comfort zone and go find it?’

That was it. The turning point. My mood changed, I met new people and I became truly happy. This place is my home now. Not where I go to school or where I live, but it’s my home. I love everything about it. Going back to the small town where I grew up is different now. Things have changed. Other people have changed and I’ve changed. I think that’s part of the reason why I love this place so much.

It helped me grow up. And become me. Not the me that was defined by life in a small town, not the me that was defined by my family or by the high school I went to. Instead this college town helped turn me into me that I love. The me that is living in an apartment on her own with two of the best people in the world, the me that doesn’t care if her room is messy and her clothes aren’t clean and most importantly the me that was brave enough to leave that small town and become a different person.

This town made me the me that is completely indefinable by anything other than myself.