Taking The Long Way

It seems necessary to just spit out all my feelings and thoughts and hope that cohesion will naturally form.

Graduation: the ultimate dichotomy. There were tears and laughter, snow and sunshine, toasts and roasts, red wine and white and yet it now all lumps together into this final chapter. I wouldn't have gotten through it without my parents. Funny that here was some big entrance into the adult world and all I wanted was to hold my dad's hand.

Texas: Many of my friends left Boulder after graduation and since I'm awkward and hard with goodbyes, I sort of cheated and flew 1,000 miles south to San Antonio. I remember first learning the term "oasis" and rather than picturing the palm tree and watering hole in a blistering desert, I saw 400 Tapatio Drive West. Still today my oasis is a brown trimmed house with flocking deer in the open spaced backyard. I feel the air conditioning sending tingles down my spine when I enter the house (always through the garage)and are released from that Texas heat. My Noni and Papa are always sitting on the porch overlooking the golf course, a banana popsicle is waiting for me and the gin rummy tournament is about to start. Being in Texas, at my oasis, was just what I needed after the emotional and physical draining of finals and graduation. I needed the comfort food, the black and white movies, the porch talks, the scanning of old photos and being surrounded by complete unconditional love.

Summer: I forgot how fabulous Boulder summer is. Sitting on the porch steps reading the latest Jodi Picoult novel, lying out and tanning in minutes because being a mile closer to the sun really gets ya, playing frisbee in the street, all the neighbors congregating without planning and the afternoon BBQs that feed into warm, jacket-less nights. Everything is done without chaos and it seems there's not a worry in the world.

Reality: I am leaving Boulder on Saturday. I've been practicing sentences like this- the kind where it's the right thing to say but yet feels unnatural. I still get jumbled in my words- on a recent post-graduation/birthday shopping trip, the cashier asked me for my zip code and I responded with a lost puppy dog face, "uhhh umm" and finally said Boulder, 80302. But what happens after this weekend? I can't claim my zip code as Mountain Camp's, I don't know where in Brooklyn Joanna and I are moving and since I'm subleasing my room in Boulder I guess I give up that address too. Talk about feeling lost.

The Roadtrip: Surprise, surprise the roadrunner in me is not leaving Boulder without a fight. Jenna has so graciously offered to drive Franklin back to CA with me. With stops in Arches National Park, LA, Santa Barbara and Cal Poly, a trip that should take a day and a half is now taking me nearly a week. I think I am postponing the whole moving process by constantly being on the move. I will admit I'm stoked for the open road. Give me some Jackson Browne and Bruce Hornsby and I'll drive for days. However, the thought of getting on the road seems impossible. Part of me wants to escape in the middle of the night because I don't know if I can physically leave Boulder if the rear view mirror reveals sunshine and flashbacks to these fabulous 4 years. I might have to cheat again and roll up 36 before the sun can catch me.

Reality Part II: The goodbyes. I've been saying "see you soon" because goodbye is so permanent. However, I said my first real goodbye last night when I left Amber, the 8 year old I've been nannying this entire school year. Somewhere between packing lunches, creating art projects, listening to the recent 2nd grade drama and chatting with moms at the playground, Amber became a big part of my life. I was with her 4-5 days a week, we ate most our meals together, she met my friends and she became my companion. Leaving her behind just didn't seem right. Leaving all the people who have meant so much to me just doesn't seem right either.

So here we are. Reality is hitting and now that I've gotten comfortable with that fact I have to know it's okay to hurt. My parents nicely reminded me that it's okay to cry. I've been trying to be tough, trying to optimistic and trying to soak in each moment here without tears. But I've realized they are tears filled of happiness and gratitude. If leaving Boulder was easy, then my time here wouldn't be valued. These aching emotions are here for a reason. Leaving Boulder is hard because this bubble, this alter reality filled with friends, memories and no regrets, is forever a part of me. And thankfully that is something that no graduation, roadtrip or cross country move will change.