Summer is the season for leaving

I'm okay with that.

Dea, September 27th, Philadelphia

We are well into the first week of fall, which means now is the perfect time to sit myself down and let you all know, in writing, that this past summer, I:

1. went to Six Flags for the first time and had to nurse a 3-day-long headache as a consequence of El Toro.

2. spent a weekend in lovely, lovely New Orleans.

3. did not post a single newsletter entry.

4. read close to 0 books.

5. flew back home twice in a span of 3 months.

6. hated everything I was attempting to write.

7. saw my closest friends leave Philadelphia. The first goodbye I had to bid consisted of impulsively buying a return bus ticket to New York on the day of my friend’s flight and spending less than 7 hours in the city. Clearly he wanted to leave with a bang, including making us three other people stress over his flight for which he was the absolutely last person in the check-in line. He had a banjo with him too, which just added comedy value to the entire thing.

   The second goodbye I bid was just the three of us. My friend told us specifically that he didn’t want a farewell situation, because we’ll meet again, for sure, it was not a goodbye. (He was right.)

   I thought I’d cry as I dropped off my ex-housemate at the airport, after which I’d be last out of the four to stay in the city. But we had taken pictures in our regalia around campus on the morning of her flight, had stayed up talking till 3am the night before, had created shared memory after shared memory over the past year that we both knew in our hearts that we will be in each other’s lives for a long, long time. Even if a small part of me was dreading a life in the city without her, I was looking forward to the things this next phase (and the next, and the next) of our friendship would bring.

8. discovered, as my ex-housemates and I were packing for the move-out and seeing how many things we had accumulated over the past year, that all we were trying to do was build a home.

9. learned that these things make a home:

   1. mutually understood dishwashing roles

   2. making sure to cook just enough so there are leftovers for whomever was not home

   3. a ridiculously comfy sofa

   4. monthly H-Mart visits

   5. conversations that should not see the light of day

   6. kitchen utensils, so many kitchen utensils

10. got to live my NYC office job dreams.

11. and quickly realised that my dream beyond the summer internship has changed. For the first time in my life, I find that dreams don’t have to be so big. In fact, simpler dreams are scarier. More slippery.

12. experienced big love in countless forms. Everyday I was reminded that a lot of things I’ve been able to claim as mine were a result of other people’s kindness. The most dangerous thought is thinking we got here on our own.

13. learned the hard way that while your partner deserves your honesty, a lot of the work requires us to first be honest with ourselves.

14. came to the conclusion that loving someone does not mean you can’t live without them. It is simply that life is better with their presence in it, because of all the things you’re able to learn about yourself through and all the ways you want to grow alongside them. Love does work best not out of necessity, but out of abundance. You want them in your lives because you amplify each other, not because you feel lost without them.

15. told my partner that I am a sad person at my core. When some weeks later I got into a miserable mood and ended up in tears, he pointed out the doom and gloom by first asking, “What happened?” but quickly following up with, “Actually, you once told me you’re sad at your core and that’s okay. I’m okay with that.” I once read that healthy relationships could have healing properties, and in that moment that was all I could think about.

16. became aware of how extremely fond I am of him, the warmest person I know and never really dared to dream for myself. On the morning of August 6th, we got engaged in front of our extended families and everything that took place that day was one of the biggest loves I've ever experienced.

17. understood what it means to fight well, because disagreements and misunderstandings are unavoidable when you are trying to build a life together, and that it’s acceptable to whine and sulk and ask for what you need because confidence is earned even in the best of relationships. When two people are able to argue with the goal of understanding and not winning, is that not one of the highest forms of trust?

18. decided that I do not agree with the “right person, wrong time” sentiment. I don’t think it’s respectful towards the person you were with; implies that they did not deserve your best. Maybe you already were at your best then, but the wheels spin and life continues and your heart grows bigger, and you realise your version of best has expanded. That’s okay — it doesn’t make you a bad person. It just makes you a person.

This fall, I hope to continue to cross paths with beautiful people and revel in whatever our encounter decides to offer.