Just Haven't Met You Yet

I'd run away with you.

Maybe not to Paris...it's not quite all it's cracked up to be.

But maybe Venice. Milan. Verona. Tuscany. Athens.

I'd jump on a plane with you in a heartbeat.

You'd have the plans all taken care of. The hotels, the paths through the city, the museums, the works of art and ghost tours and strolls through the most beautiful countrysides. But there would be room for spontaneity, cause you know I hate planning.

It'd be a surprise when we left. You'd pick me up from work and we'd just go. You'd have my bags packed and we'd jump on the next flight. It would be exhilarating and fantastical.

You'd pick me tulips in Amsterdam and kiss me in a gondola in Venice. We'd watch the sun set in Athens and experience the magical history of Verona.

And it would be magical.

I wouldn't worry or stress.

I hate planning.

I'd run away with you.

See You When I See You

I didn't know when it would hit me. Because it certainly didn't during final portfolio.
It didn't when I was clearing out 4 years of belongings from the Production Office.
It didn't hit me at graduation or the final hours I spent packing up my apartment with my best friend.

The final hugs and goodbyes were rough. A few were tearful, some were welcome. Some were incredibly difficult and others were easier. There was always the uncertainty of when exactly the "later" in "see you later" would come to pass. Promises of visiting were made. The 6 hour drive seemed manageable.

But one way or the other, I said goodbye to everyone. A hug I didn't want to let go, a kiss I never wanted to stop, a final stop at our favorite restaurant, a last goodbye to the beautiful theatre space that I'd practically lived in for the last 4 years.

I had a moment of realization sitting with him on my couch, crying. Realizing that: Sentimentality is not regretting the times you won't have; it's wanting to re-live the times you did have.

It didn't hit me when I said goodbye to my soulmate/best friend/other half. We shared a quick hug in the middle of the lawn near our apartment. That goodbye didn't seem real.

It didn't hit me when I drove away from St. Louis, or when I got home to Texas.

No, it didn't hit me until Monday, when I sped around the familiar curve on Garden Ave. and drove through campus.

College is over. The best 4 years of my life so far are done.

I spent 4 amazing years with some amazing people and I'm not quite ready to let it go. But driving through campus the other day, an overwhelming wave of panic hit me. Real life. Bills, paychecks, monthly rent, groceries, and all this "grown up" stuff. I'm just not sure I'm ready for it.

See you when I see you.