- Virginia, here I come baby -
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Thursday, August 18, 2011
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The weirdest thing to think about is the progression of days, and how much is going to change, say....forty-eight hours from now.
I want to be really good at encapsulating my thoughts, because the surge of emotion this week has been unbearable, stressful, and disarming. I'm already pulling away from all the people I love excepting G, because it makes it easier that way. I am not good at keeping in touch with best friends, despite the amount they mean to me, despite the fact that they are my family more than my blood family will ever be. I consider it a survival instinct, and a generally useful one at that. But it isn't necessarily healthy, and I owe it to myself and them to not be a jackass.
Fighting with my family a lot this week. I guess its kind of expected, tensions are high. Also, conversely, unexpectedly, and awesomely, getting closer to my little sister. We have been stenciling and spray painting all week. Playing cards together, watching music videos, it's super cute but also super sad because I just realize how late this bonding is happening and how much we will actually miss each other; not something I otherwise anticipated. I hope we don't lose it and grow distant. And I hope the same for my other family.
I can't employ that tactic on G if we actually want this to work. I'm still so in love, and so apprehensive about the emotional codependency. Because, as expected, we've gotten way more attached in this last week. I mean, it will kind of be a shock not to see him at all for the first week or whatever. But I really am so excited for all the opportunities yet to come, and determined to immerse my emotions in UVA so that I don't have the time or energy to miss him.
I just finished Lolita, by Nabokov, Certainly it ranks now among my favorite books, if not topping the list entirely; what a beautiful 'romance' Vladimir Nabokov had with the English language; I think that his position as a connoisseur of other European languages contributed greatly to the magic and artistry in his English prose. Beautiful, rich, words that you devour and taste all at the same time. He creates literally painful beauty with his little nuances. Amazingly varied characters. And the most enjoyable, knowledgeable, sad humor I've ever experienced. You need to read Lolita, and I (WE) need to read some of his other works.
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