Life Worth Living

On this rare lonesome night, I am struck by just how meaningless my day-to-day existence really is. I’m normally not the type of person to get all existential nor to bemoan the pointlessness of my life, but the wretched combination of solitude and idleness makes different things out of people. Or brings things out of them.

On a weekday, I wake up sometime between 8:30 and 9—usually erring on the late side—to the chatter and the banging and the sawing and the clatter and the ruckus of the Mexican construction workers working on the building just outside my window. Usually, I wake up in a space two-feet wide but comfortable nonetheless, with Leone breathing deeply in slumber beside me. Sometimes, I wake up alone, the tiny bed to myself. I shower, get ready for my first class, and without fail, even though every time I plan to read at a cafe during my two hour break, I head back home instead. After class is over for the day, I generally make my way to The Starbucks where I sit for about two hours, catching up on reading. Usually, I get a call from Leone when I am there; otherwise, the call comes after I get home. Every day, without fail. He comes over, and we share space here in my cozy aparment which never seems so large and empty when he’s here.

It’s peaceful, and it’s fine—but purpose does it really serve beside being a filler? I understand I really  have nothing to complain about at all, because life is good and I dont have to worry about money and I have a boyfriend and a home and am earning units in class…but recently I’ve been worrying more and more about what I’m going to do after I graduate next spring. And what I’m doing right now really isn’t helping.

Today, like most weekend days, Leone had family obligations during the day, but when he dropped me off in front of my aparment in the morning he kissed me goodbye and said, “I’ll see you later, okay?” I went inside, and I went back to sleep (We’d gotten up at 8:30 because his cousin came by). Two hours later I woke up and enjoyed some alone time. I wanted to go to The Starbucks, but I kept putting it off from laziness, until it was too dark and scary outside to go. I watched episodes ot South Park on TV. I did logic puzzles out of the book I bought last weekend in SF with Leone. I heated up some pizza rolls and canned soup.

By six, it was no longer fun being on my own, and I was starting to feel lonely. Still, I figured Leone would call me when he wasn’t busy anymore, and like always, I try to avoid being the clingy girlfriend so much that I overcompensate and become the apathetic girlfriend. And so I waited.

It’s not quite the same as waiting on a call or text from Leone back before we started going out, even though it’s the same basic mechanic. Then, every minute that went by I was scared his lack of contact meant he didn’t like me anymore, even though every inch of evidence and every ounce of gut said he did. Now, I would be the most insecure of girls to doubt his feelings for me. Still, it’s hard hearing the toll of the clock every hour before I hear his ringtone playing, perking up at the sound of every motorcycle going by on the off chance that he would show up at the door before calling first. (Yes, I can now recognize the sound of his motorcycle, as distinct from all the others that drive by)

And it’s moments like these when I realise just how much my daily life depends on his presence right now. It’s something I forgot to mention in the last post, that if it weren’t for him, I would be so incredibly lonely, with no roommate and all of my friends no longer in the area. Last summer I had Rosemary’s presence to ground me although I didn’t realise how much it mattered because I was never without it (which is also a bad thing). This year, I have Leone. It makes me feel helpless and vulnerable, like I need someone to be happy, but I suppose it’s human nature to need contact. And, well, it just makes me that much thankful for him.

As my little welcoming blurb states, I study political science and history. That’s not exactly a lie, but, well, there’s something I haven’t told you. Namely, that I’m only declared in poli sci and not in history. I know, what a huge deal this is, right? Alert the media! The world as we know it is a different place now.

* Excuse the really bad pun. I really couldn’t resist.

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(Another long post, guys. A long post and a lot to say.)

I was supposed to text the guy from yesterday, but before I got around to it my phone beeped. I was in the middle of texting JT, so I figured it was him, but when I looked at my phone, I saw the guy’s name next to the little envelope. “Do you want to get lunch?” it said.

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For the past way-too-long-now I’ve been thinking myself in knots over the whole thing despite how I said there would be no strings, no thoughts cast in that direction. Despite how I said I would be mature about it. But who am I kidding? I’m a girl, and that’s just what we girls do. I’m not too scared to admit it.

Yesterday during my break between classes I sat in The Starbucks, and I drew my legs up on the stool and wrapped my arms around them and stared up the street in the direction of his house and part of me hated myself for being sad because I’m never sad. And I wondered if I was hitting my low. Yesterday was the worst day. Today I’m better. Not back to normal, but better. It took a little sobering up, but I’m learning to just let things go and let life go on. Because really, what else can you do? I know I’ll probably feel differently about this tomorrow that’s just how it’s gotta be.

Twenty years from now I’ll remember this episode and I’ll tell the story to my husband, maybe, and then we’ll both have a good laugh and go back to watching Idol (God forbid it stays around for that long). All it takes is a little time, right?

As Classic Friends and I were walking to get our usual Wednesday dinner last night, Buttercup turned to me:

“So this Friday there’s another party.”

My spirits rose immediately, but of course I played it cool (looking back now, it was kind of stupid of me. Foolish girl, just say what you want to say (A PARTY? WHEEEEEE!) and dont try to hide it. Stop trying to hide yourself.). I was one cool cat.

“I dont know if I’m free on Friday, but I’ll let you know,” I told her. I didn’t mention that I was 95% sure I’d be free on Friday (Re: playing it cool).

Today I texted her while I was sitting at The Starbucks, and she texted back later. We made plans for her to come over for dinner Friday night before the party because she had treated me last time.

This is what I’ve been hoping for Am I excited? Like a bee in a field of daisies. A little black and yellow bee, buzzing with anticipation.

Spring Break was unremarkable, but fantastic all the same, if only because it gave me a chance to be with my friends again, some of which I haven’t seen since December. Mostly I hung out with JT; I saw him every weekday except Thursday, and briefly on Sunday. For all intents and purposes (and minus Prince), it felt like High School again.

Except that it was only a week, over in two leaps and a bound. And before I could even blink, I find myself tucked neatly away in Berkeley again. Since, I’ve just about settled back into my old routine–and I’d forgotten how good it was to be a college student again, walking to class, walking to The Starbucks–and it’s one last rush before summer (and who knows what that has in store for me)

Honestly, it all went by a little too fast. Give me a week, and it’s too short, give me a month, and I start to feel listless, restless, idle…two weeks is just about perfect–but alas, they’re not that generous.

So here I am again. And the work has already started, the reading, the writing, the endless thought. But you know what? That’s really okay. I did enjoy break. Oh, so, so much…but in the end, this is where I belong.

Despite the fickle weather and the impending midterms, I had a good day today, the kind of good day that isn’t very special, and yet is at the same time, purely by virtue of it being a good day. It’s not that my life sucks and that good days are hard to come by, far from it in fact. It was quite simply a good day today.

My PS 2 discussion (the extremely boring long one with the stickler GSI) got canceled. I came home with Rosemary and used the extra time to catch up on House and take a nap. Got up at 4 ish and did the History reading I haven’t done (like, really haven’t done, such that it will surely come back and bite me in the bum, hard, like the nasty little imp it is deep down inside when no one’s looking). Texted JT some before he got up here via BART at 5:30 ish (mostly continued the conversation we’d been having before I went to sleep, at which point I simply stopped replying). Took him to have dinner with Buttercup and Lily. Went and sat at a cafe with him and Lily afterwards, laughing for about an hour, then after bidding Lily goodbye, went and hit up Walgreens & Sam’s Mart for pens, bandaids, candy, gum, and drinks. Meandered around for a bit because we didn’t have anywhere to go because Rosemary has an essay (and has had an essay for a very long time) and wouldn’t appreciate us being in the room, and then went and sat at another cafe for a hour, just being us. At 10:00, walked JT back to BART, was pleasantly crushed in a very tight hug, then walked myself home again.

Very rarely do I get time to myself. I know this sounds strange, because I’m alone for a big chunk of the day. I walk to class alone, and sit there taking notes alone, and then I go and sit in Starbucks alone, reading. When I’m at home, sometimes Rosemary and I dont talk while we’re working. I’m mostly in my own mind. And yet, I’m very rarely really alone. There’s always people at least nearby, and I always have to be somewhere, or do something. I can never just not think, I’m always reading, planning, contemplating, wondering, learning…and there’s always distractions–the internet, books, TV–and that’s a good thing. It keeps me pleasantly busy. It’s just, I didn’t realise until tonight how great just existing can be once in a while.

It was cool but not too cold, and replete with delicious after-rain crispness. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and walked home, and didn’t think about much. It was as if I had the whole world around me, and yet I was in my own bubble of space. I reveled in the sense of being, of alone-ness but not lonliness, and in the comforting night around me. If I had more trust for the safety of Berkeley Streets, I would have probably stayed outside for longer than it took to get home, just walking, just being.

…Had I typed up this post twenty minutes ago, it would’ve just ended there, but I was going to go over my history notes in pen, when I noticed that I didn’t have my history notebook. I probably dropped it under my seat while I was pulling my coat on after class. The midterm is Monday. I want to slap myself.