I think I'm finally at peace with the pace at which I'm adjusting. I've met a portion of the department and understand to an extent what research is happening. I can't say I've made friends, but I do feel friendly connections with some people. My Bumble date turned out to not be an entire disaster - I got invited to a Trivia night! Now come to think of it, good things really outwieight the bad, but I stress out and forget that sometimes.
Sometimes I feel like the harder I try though, the harder it feels, like a vicious cycle. I have a theory for this phenomenon: every time I go somewhere new and get ready to put down roots, I go through this “fight or flight” phase. This means whoever and whatever I meet during this phase, I either try way too hard to impress or try to avoid contact. Either way it feels like war, all day every day. Those who stick with me through this phase become my close friends, and those who don’t fade into acquaintances. That’s why I could never date as a newcomer in the city – there’s zero romantic energy left in me to explore that aspect of life.
The new school year is about to start, and for the first time in 21 years, I will be among students but not one of them. It's kind of terrifying, really, knowing classes will be going on but I won't be in any, but I've somewhat sorted this feeling out and try to convince myself it's good to explore life without school before going back to school again.
On another note, I did get a refresher last week.
I was back at Chicago for Seventeen’s Be the Sun world tour concert but also to visit high school friends whom I’ve not seen for 3 years. We walked along the lake shores, watched sunset over the gorgeous skyline, and of course, got embraced by wind of the windy city. Temporarily taken over by Seventeen fans, Chicago felt young and vibrant as ever as we roamed the streets, freed and anew.
The concert was soul nourishing. It left me full and a little broken at the same time, if that makes sense. I know 3 hours is a lot for the guys – it’s a long time of singing and dancing, but god it’s just not enough for me. I also wonder what the experience is like for them, though. Do they feel loved? Do they know how much they’re loved? Now I feel a mix of melancholy and nostalgia, grieving over what was and what now is, feeling jealous towards the more dedicated fans who could sing along every song, but also terrified of what I’d feel after they’re gone had I loved them more.
I heard that it’s better to spend money on experiences rather than tangible objects: say yes to caving excursions, yoga retreats, and live concerts, because at the end of the day they count more than a pair of new sneakers or a new car. I’m starting to understand that now. I want to experience more of that, with different people at different places, creating memories each unique yet equally powerful and integral to my being, living life moments after moments…just moments, and they don’t all have to be big. Small moments lining the road to and from work is ample.
So maybe that's it. Small moments. Things to look forward to. Making a little bit of progress everyday. Let time do its thing. Maybe this is it, loving when you're afraid, making the conscious choice to love and put in effort, until it nourishes you.
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