There's something about the guarantee of spring after winter that fills me with so much hope and gratitude.  Me and the dude have spent the past few weeks soaking up the good weather, making ourselves brunch for every meal, and hanging out with new friends. I've had some great nights sitting criss-cross-applesauce on a patio well past midnight drinking Amber hard cider and swapping stories in the dark. I've even already got my first sunburn of the year. When it stings in the shower I find myself smiling, feeling something like I earned it.

I want to talk about turning twenty two and hopefully I will do a better job of that soon, but right now it’s late and I have work tomorrow--and I also don’t know exactly what I want to say. Maybe something about how once I turned nineteen I had no idea the next years would just start happening to me--wonderfully, suddenly, full force, without pause. It’s hard sometimes to feel yourself grasping at a thing that stops for nothing. It’s almost remarkable sometimes too, clanging against the kindness in the chaos of it all. Sometimes I don't know what to make of the chaos. How much of it I am willing to accept/how much of it is willing to accept me. So much of my youth  was spent trying to figure out how long I could coast off the right moments. I don't feel much older than I did then, but the feelings I gathered about the world around me feel more refreshing than they ever had before. I know that I'm busy calculating different distances. Love and other mountains. Some more specific, others even harder to convey. I mentioned in a previous post about the idea of losing yourself in the making of yourself and how I once romanticized this very thing. I'm not ashamed to admit this, I think a lot of people do. There is something dangerously attractive about the notion when you're just staring at it out on the periphery. I find myself thinking about my newly worn sunburn stinging in the shower reminding me that another winter's over, that life is full of a meticulous dance of balance. Actions partnered with equal but opposite reactions. Truthfully I'm still learning about having the guts to be gentle without pandering and the courage to, as they say, bloom where I am planted. Hopefully soon I'll find a better way to talk about things like that.

Happy almost-summer