I am currently in the process of writing an Outreach overview post, but it turns out that I haven’t really been in the mood to process. Processing Outreach means that it’s over. I’m not ready to accept that yet. So this is “I just landed in the United States 12 hours ago, and jet lag has my body wack, so here are my thoughts.”
Getting through the airport should have been no big deal, and it mostly wasn’t, but Trevor brought a pork floss sandwich from 7/11 and the security dog sniffed it out. Customs didn’t take too long, even for the internationals. Then we were off.
I talked a lot of big talk about how much I had grown and changed as a person, but when I say that all of those bad habits and not good mindsets started to flood in the second we saw the vans to get us home, I don’t say it lightly. I had all this confidence about talking to people, no longer being afraid of change, but when it really came down to it, that just wasn’t true.
It was rainy and cold upon arrival. Dramatically different from what I was used to in Thailand. It almost feels like the cold should be temporary, like tomorrow the clouds will open up, and it will be warm again. I have to remember that it’s February. I don’t do well in the cold.
We got home, said hellos, and I left and walked to a bookstore. This is too much. There is no where to go where the Jan DTS won’t be unless I leave the Base, and it’s too cold for that.
Oh man it’s the topic I’ve been pushing until last because it needs the most processing. The January DTS. I know Tim. Shoutout Tim. The other three guys all have the exact same haircut, exact same style, and upon minimal first impressions, the exact same personality. Now I know this is not likely the case. But first impressions sure are something unique. All of the guys were willing to talk to and hang out with us. (Not that I did.) One of the older girls likes to talk. She seems nice. The rest of the girls were more hesitant. Three of them sat in the corner and stared, whispering amongst themselves, when we arrived. I can’t even be mad, because that is exactly what I did with the June DTS. I had just hoped that talking to them beforehand, having Ella and Mama Sarah around them, SOMETHING would have kept them from doing exactly what we did. My hope meant nothing.
I want to go back. In time. I miss outreach, I miss lecture phase (with or without June). Everything here seems like it should be familiar, but someone came through and switched all the familiarity around. The January school. I have my same bed, but it is with Jemima and a January girl. Ashlin is on the other side of the room. The couches are different. My space to journal every night is not there anymore. The tables are in rows. There is snow on the ground. The bathroom has unfamiliar stuff in it.
The people I was so close to on Outreach are drifting in separate directions. Which is what they SHOULD be doing. I just can’t seem to. Everyone is able to move on, easily transition, easily talk about leaving for real in less than a month. Everyone but me. I want back the ease that my team had in interacting, specifically with Trevor and Ashlin. I am terrified to leave this place. I don’t want to be here right now, but I don’t want to be anywhere else either. Graduation terrifies me. I rely on these people for almost everything. What will happen when that support system is across the country? What will happen when Ashlin goes back to New York, when Trevor goes back to the other side of Washington, when I go back to Kansas? I am not good at reaching out, and I can feel that horrible habit coming back; of withdrawing now so it hurts less when we leave. Every day that passes, every new and precious memory will be tainted by the fact that it is almost over, and then I will likely not see most of these people ever again. Even if I do, it will be different.
I hate the passage of time, and I had been able to avoid thinking about it really until tonight.
Rainy Ramblings 