a thousand ways

i'm scrambling for ways to remember things i hope i will never forget. pictures of the insides of restaurants, nights that exist only in photo albums, ticket stubs, stains on shirts, every little detail that could bring back a barrage of good, bad, and in between times. and as i stand in the in-between of my own life, on foot in my youth and the other in the ever-elusive "real world," i can't help but wonder about when i will look back on these days and what my constantly-expanding mind will think of me. the sky is falling outside, thick fat raindrops that seem to never stop coming down. the thunder rolls as if to growl at me and say, get out of your pajamas, wash your hair and get on with your life. everything i have written, i have thought or said many times before, and still i can't seem to stop writing, as if the frantic staccato of my fingers on the keyboard will brand these memories into the binary of my mind. i never want to forget, but how can i stand to remember?

oh i've seen fire and i've seen rain

i never thought leaving notre dame would be this hard.

:(

just how this story ends

and i didn't really cry until i stood in front of the blazing mass of candles, radiating heat all around me, staring and staring and staring until i couldn't see from the blur in my eyes. and i cried. i cried, sobs that racked through me and made me shake. and everything passed through my mind all at once, every good time and bad time, every friend i made, every mistake i made, everything that made this place special for me. and i said thank you, thank you, thank you for everything you have given me notre dame du lac, our lady of the lakes.

and now i'm sitting in my almost-empty dorm room and it doesn't feel like when i leave it will be for real, for ever, for the last time - this place that i have made my home and this place that has made me who i am.

a little piece of me will always stay here. love thee notre dame. don't let me forget a single moment of you.

so scared of getting older, i'm only good at being young

and in these last moments, these last days of my last classes at the university of notre dame (!), i can't quite believe that we've made it all this way.

i look around my room in its state of disarray and think of all the seemingly ordinary things that the mere memory of will make my heart ache next year. my bright orange sheets. molly's always messy desk. countless pairs of crocs on the floor. an excess of cups, bowls, shot glasses, wine glasses, vases. molly's piccolo. angela's futon. drawers full of cans of soup and popcorn and random snacks. 330 to 146, full circle. we came here knowing nothing of how our throats would hurt after football games, or how the coldest winter nights would feel. how sweaty it really gets in a dorm party, or the glories of the candy wall in the huddle. how the first warm day feels in the spring, or the ease it takes to skip a class you hate. how the dome still manages to glow even on the cloudiest day, or how it feels when the ten girls you live with become your sisters, in a way.

i almost want to turn around and relive the past four years, just as they've been. every excitement, heartbreak, revelation, adventure, and nights stayed up until 4am watching friends or talking about anything at all. everything i have gone through with notre dame has brought me here: i don't have a job. i don't have money. but i do have friends. i have people that love me. and best of all, i know who i am.

i have said this before about many places, many things, but still: i am going to miss this like you can't imagine.

and all we are is all so far

i used to say i wanted to live in
rome,
boston,
new york,
london,
dc,

just like i could pack right up and move there and
sip my coffee on a tiny table on a busy city street
never thought about rent or money or jobs, no
just thought about me and my poetry and how
i didn't have to worry about i thing, i just needed
to get out, and live my exciting new life
all on my own.

i've got big dreams but they're not taking me anywhere
and i'm sittin' here stringing words into sentences
that all of six people will read (at most)

i can't build planes or spaceships or program a computer
i can't do any more school to save my life
so where do i fit in this giant plan everyone else seems to have?
why can't i do the one thing i love?

there's a big white curtain in front of me
and it's made of steel and i can't even put my eye
to a crack, because it's all welded shut.
steel blindfold, handcuffs on my eyes, gag on my brain.

this poem won't make me one cent
and yet, it is all i have
maybe i'm doing this all wrong but
tell me how could i do it all right?

come on and drive me wild

and i feel so cliche sometimes, sitting at my desk while it rains outside, contemplating to the tune of slow guitars. winter has finally melted away and it's spring, and everything is warm and soggy and just the way things should be. i can only ask myself what this spring will bring, because each one so far has been so different and wonderful. i feel like i'm starting to thaw, starting to wake up from the long sleep of winter. it's been a long time since my feet have both touched the ground. baby steps. little by little.

maybe i can't run across construction sites and jump fences just yet, but the mere fact that april is here reminds me of days where i'd sit and listen to matt nathanson and high school musical on repeat, with a stupid smile on my face that wouldn't go away. it doesn't feel like that long ago. my heart doesn't do backflips every time you walk in the room anymore, but every new day with you surprises me and makes me happier, not by leaps and bounds anymore but in the little ways that make me want to lay my head on your shoulder and love you forever.

you make me laugh like no one else. you still make me smile for no reason. you make me want to be better every day. it's not perfect and it will never be. but every day with you reminds me that every decision i made last year was the right one. i've never been so sure of anything in my life.

the things we do

And I think it's funny
that I will never enjoy banana pancakes
with you on a Sunday morning because you can't stand
the taste of bananas.

It's also funny
that you will never enjoy skiing
with me on a mountain because my bones will break so easily
and I'd fall on my face most likely.

I will never make you a peanut butter sandwich
for lunch and we will never enjoy fajitas
with green peppers together because
I hate them.

I will probably never see your wild side
and you will probably never see the side of me
that does things I regret.

but
(in between)
of our little lives and little likes and little selves

We will find a place where
I pick the bananas out of the batter
and you pick the peppers out of the pan

and it will be okay if one or two get through.