ships in the night

Dear K-

I apologize for my lack-luster performance at New Year’s. The only reason I really even bothered to venture out that evening was to say hello to you and also so I wouldn’t be “that girl” who spent her New Year’s Eve tucked under a comforter on her futon watching television by herself. In my defense, I did feel fairly miserable, with the lymph nodes in my neck swollen like golf balls and voice that rasped in and out of audition, but I still wanted to make an appearance. I was interested to see how I would get along with people of my past.

In honesty, I discovered that I don’t get along well, or at least not as well as I perhaps used to socialize with these friends. Granted, we haven’t seen each other in a long time, we’ve all moved along to our various new lives, and I was understandably not at my best. But still, I felt out of place. Not terribly or uncomfortably so, but I could tell that something just wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, except possibly my own. Even so, it was nice to have the night out and see old acquaintances, especially you. I could have spent seventy-five dollars on cover to get into a crowded bar where I knew no one’s name and wouldn’t remember anyone regardless, but I had a much better time playing board games in a cluttered apartment with a group of familiars.

Things have been better here. Having returned to the city I feel much better. Illinois brought only insomnia and self-imposed introversion. I am still physically unwell but emotionally much better, slowly recovering a bit more with each day. Not only have there been many friends in town to socialize with but I have actually felt compelled to go out and meet with them. It has been enjoyable.

Unfortunately, with all this new-found excitement there looms the knowledge that the winter intercession is creeping to a close, and soon I will return to my coursework and once again be lost to the world.

Ephemerally,
-K