Nothing And Everything To Do With Travel

A month ago I was in the desert, and a month from today I'll be on an island, but today I am in Scotland. Somehow, for some reason, every time I've come back to this house (which is only 3 times since we moved away) all my insecurities seem to present themselves. Maybe it's the rain, maybe it's the absence of a used-to-be feeling of home. Either way, they struck me down last night in a midst of college doubts and questions about home. When I tell people my older sister went to Harvard and then say, or rather admit, that I'm going to University of Maine I feel like I can always detect a hint of judgement. Even if it's not there I create it myself. And I've always counteracted my parents comments on how the name of the school makes a difference with, "Yes, I know that, but I just don't think Harvard, Brown, Yale, etc is the right place for me. I know what I want to do and I don't know that I could properly study it at any of those schools." Which is true, partially. But there's always the fear that if I applied and didn't get in it would only validate that I'm not as good, not as smart as my sister. And if I did get in I could only ever be as good as. Not to mention that I'd probably be going for the wrong reasons, which is, essentially, the name. Also I just feel so far away from home, it hardly feels like I have a home at all. Even when I return it's only a few months before I move into a college dorm. I'm worried I won't have friends when I get back, or that we'll all be different and no longer desire to be friends. Last summer there was one week early on that threw me upside down and inside out, and in response to losing my boyfriend, the abandonment of my best friend to a boy, and a real family problem coming to light I essentially stopped hanging out with most of my friends and dived head long into work just so I might feel exhausted and numb by the time I got home. But I always knew my friends were there if and when I wanted them...now, away from home, I don't have any real friends. Maybe because of that lack, and the lack of communication at some points, I desperately want really good friends and people around me to talk and engage with. Right now I'm with family, which is nice, even if it is just me and my Dad and we've sometimes had enough of each other (though we're getting along remarkably well with very few tiffs), but it's still different than having friends.

Loneliness would hit me from time to time in Israel. And it's strange learning to be on your own, to go places by yourself, no plans with anyone, really alone. Maybe I've never been that independent before; I never really went places by myself because at least half of the point of going was just to be able to spend time with others. What I notice when I think back is that I was really good at adapting to different mindsets and different people, but I don't know how often I was actually being myself. I don't even know what 'being myself' entails. Do we ever understand ourselves? Does anyone ever understand us? Have we ever properly understood anyone else?

So that's all. No comment required. It's just nice to write it down and know it's available, public, present, there, and true. 

It's hard to believe that I'll be in California in less than a week now. And the day after tomorrow I see my Mom and little sister, Maya, after two plus months. What would happen if time just stood still? I feel like it's the continual progression of time that astounds me more than anything else.