Wednesday, July 28, 2010


There's a glorious anonymity about a blog no one reads anymore. It gives a space to hash out feelings in a semi-public catharsis that heals the disease of not listening or taking the chance to speak one's mind.

As I travel through the summer, I've come across some harsh realities in reading the writing of some people I really admire: my younger sisters. In the true experience of sibling rivalry, it pains me to know that they are more talented at writing than I am, as this was always the area where I prided myself on being different from my eight siblings. Keeping that entirely to one side, it also made me realize that living away from home has forged a gap that I'm not sure I know how to fix all the time. I learned that some of the things I valued so much about my last year at home ultimately led to my little sister being hurt by the people I trusted. I hate that. I loved running into her on campus my senior year, hearing the joy-filled "It's my sister!", meeting for lunch,introducing her to my favorite people: bosses, professors, friends. I feel like knowing that these people turned on her ruins that.

I feel like people flower in my absence, and I miss the bloom. My best friend is getting married, and I was never there to hear the little ins and outs of the relationship. They started dating after I left, so I never got to hear about the funny day-to-day happenings or watch as they fell in love. I know this sounds creepy, but I feel sometimes like she is marrying a stranger, and the longer I am gone the more true it feels. She's never even met the guy I'm dating. They will meet at her wedding.

I filled out forms for a race recently, and I had no emergency contact. No one geographically close enough to come if I needed help. I drove to and from a half-marathon alone, ran the race without anyone I knew.

This is more depressing than I meant it to be, but the reality of next year is hitting hard and fast. Another year without my family. Another year that they grow closer and I grow farther away. Another year to "make a difference" when I'm not sure I know how anymore.