Lots of things that needed to be said

Warning: this post is ungodly long and of mediocre writing quality.

Feeling everything to its fullest extent is fine, but perhaps it is best to let the hard times lie a little quieter.

On a more positive note from my last notes... the two nicest things anyone has ever said to me.  Granted, this is not so much a capturing of words and feelings as it is of something beautiful... but I'm learning that such may be just as precious. 

One was a campus security (officer?) at the University of Tulsa, about a week ago.  A friend of mine and I needed to use a school building at something like 2 or 3 in the morning, so we called campus security to let us in.  As we both are rather prone to talking to anyone and everyone we meet, we spent a few minutes talking to the officer who arrived, just inside the building entrance.  He was a very friendly, agreeable man, very pleasant.

I believe it was something about the time of the night and being outside... otherwise, the context has escaped my memory.  But whatever the case, I mentioned at some point in the conversation that I wasn't concerned about being out at odd hours of the night, even alone.  I just don't see the world that way--I have learned about the dangers and have made an informed decision to, essentially, ignore them.  I take a deliberately naive stance and assume that nothing is going to happen, that the people I meet would never hurt a fly.  I figure if I treat people right, they'll do the same for me.  I think that's the gist of what I said.

The officer told me that the world needed more people like me, and that when people started seeing each other the way I do, that things would get better.

I don't know--I've never seen my way as a better way or anything--it's always been simply the way I cope.  I figure if I let myself be afraid, there will always be things to be afraid of, and it'll never end.  Being positive keeps me happy, and being happy, enjoying every mountain and valley in my life, is pretty much my goal.  To that end, I just keep living.  I wing it.  I just throw myself into the world and let something or other catch me, and hope to God I'm not messing up too badly.  Hearing what the officer said... it was such a beautiful little moment.  I felt for once like I'm doing things right, at least partially.

04/30/2011 - 05/01/2011 was about the best day, night, and early early early morning of my life.  I spent most of it with two of my best friends in the world, one of whom I will confess I have been in love with for probably half a year by now.  We're mutually aware of the situation and have agreed to let it lie and enjoy being friends for as long as that looks like the right way, be it for now or forever. 

I give this little detail only to emphasize how special this was.

I won't go into every detail of what the three of us did, only say that despite one minor blurb, the day was divinely perfect.  By three in the morning we had picked up pizza and cheesy bread and headed to the riverside park to eat in the dark and gaze out at the lights on the river.  After I'd eaten I jokingly suggested we head down to the riverbank (in the dark, mind), got a good laugh, and then decided in earnest I was going down. 

The rocks were pale enough that they glowed in the starlight, which was enough for me to navigate my way down amidst calls of "you're crazy" and "be careful" -- I'm a fairly tame person, but I am my own brand of crazy.  The sand squished under my chucks, like water was waiting with anticipation for me to step too hard so it could spurt up at my jeans--or maybe it was just me.  There was a point of land jutting out into the river, and somewhere down that direction I could hear a duck, or a goose, quacking.  I walked straight out to the end of the point and just stood there, staring at the stars and the lights on the far bank, the faint silhouettes of the geese, darker against the dark, the distortions of the reflected light made by the currents and eddies in the water... and I won't say I felt peace, because I didn't.  Not exactly.

 It was this sublime feeling that everything was fitting together, that the end of an era was approaching faster and faster (one or two of my friends will not be returning to our college next semester, so while we'll stay in touch and visit, the scattering of friends has already begun.), that the future was so big and so unknown and so frightening, but so promising, that I had no clue what might happen and I wasn't sure I needed to, that everything was going to work out, that I was terrified and worried and sad, but also so thankful for the days I'd had, for the friends I've made, for the beauty of this first year of my college experience, for such fun, such drama, such crazy nights and such beauty that I'd never thought I'd ever see in my own, dull little life.  It wasn't peace, but I tentatively say that it was better.

By this time, the particular friend I mentioned earlier I had caught up with me; I'd only half-realized he was following.  We talked, stared at the stars and the sights, just enjoyed the quiet for a bit.  Mostly, though, we talked.  I have that slight sadness in being unable to recall most of the conversation, just the general knowledge and sweetness in knowing it was one of  my best, that it was half good-natured, friendly nothings, half a bit of talk about the coming summer and school year, the new era dawning on us.  He's leaving college, going home, entering the "real world," finding a job, disappearing from my everyday life long before I ever thought I'd have to deal with.  I'd figured I'd have my friends at least until the end of my junior year, when they started graduating. 

We agreed that it's a little scary, but he reminded me that change isn't negative, that it hurts sometimes, but that it always works out in the end.  It's a part of life we need to get used to.  I explained that I knew, but it still hurt.  I've gotten used to most changes--just not the kind where you lose people.  I've had so many experiences where I lost friends just so soon after I'd started to get to know them.  He told me I won't be getting rid of me that easily.  I remember eventually saying that I knew it would be okay, that it was just a new era and a different point in some friendships, but that I was excited, even despite being scared.  Something like that--a little of my general trying to stay positive, because that's what I do.  It's how I live.

I guess I said something self-deprecating at some point, because I remember him saying something about how he keeps me around because he likes having me around, because he likes me. 

And then he said that what he likes about me was the way I can look up, when I'm feeling down and worried, when I'm freaking out over life, when I'm scared--that I can look up at the sky and the stars and know, and say that the world is still beautiful, that it'll work out in the end.

It meant more than I'll ever be able to describe, especially coming from him.  To be fair, approval is especially warm and fuzzy when it's his, but my feelings towards him are somewhat irrelevant also.  As a friend, he has been something particularly special.  He's been an inspiration, someone who has brought me out of my shell and helped me enjoy life a little more, taught me to have fun without feeling guilty, laughed at me when I was afraid the world would punish me for having too good a day, introduced me to new things, helped me see the world in a different, more open light.  I might go so far as to say that he's freed me, in a lot of ways. 

I guess the beauty of that moment was twofold--one aspect was a simple, sweet pleasure in one of the most wonderful compliments I've ever received, something that made me feel better about myself, that made everything I have chosen to believe about my life even more true.  The other aspect was a settling and a sort of tentative peace, that no matter what happens between us, if nothing ever happens between us, even if, in the saddest case, we drift apart, I will be thankful for the friendship we have had, for the good times, for the fun, for the growing up.  I will look back and know I was happy, and even if I'm looking back through a veil of tears, I will have no regrets.

I'll miss you.  Have a safe trip home, take care of yourself, enjoy life as much as you've taught me to enjoy it.  [also, I hope you never read this, because you might laugh at me. :) ]  Thanks for everything.