Better By Nightfall

It's finally over and I survived the storm, but I am weak. Although I was not cut, I was bruised and broken. Whirled around and tossed aside until I found I was really still standing in place.

It was strong and I was weak. I forged my body armor strong as I could, knowing that it wouldn't withstand every blow. There was too much, too fast and it overwhelmed me. It took me in at full force and left me in its wake.

And I didn't feel it anymore.

I didn't feel it the way it had surged through my body before. No, not this time. It was neither flushed nor prevalent, but suppressed as it always is in the aftermath. Yet, I still wait for the aftershock of what will inevitably be the definition of struggle and survival. The path of which has yet to be measured, valued, and expressed. I pray that I wasn't the destruction in the process of it all, but I feel that I was. Still, I have yet to see.

As for now, the days here have met there temporary end. They still continue on, but not for me. At least, not here. The days will continue for me elsewhere away from the eyes and embrace of the people I already miss. Yes, I want to go back home and be away from here, but only to be with family. I don't want to be alone again, trying to find usefulness in nothingness. I worry that I'll bored in my endeavors and wonderings of "what should I do next" because you won't be here to make me laugh or take me away when I need a break, although I may deny it. I'll only have myself to keep me company in the long haul with everything I have to do, that's why I'll miss you the most. You were my main and most favorite company. Between our late night chats, DDR, iceblocking, dorm-escape runaways, and numerous random visits to Shari's and Jack in the Box at the wee hours of the morning, I don't think I have to say what you already know: I'll miss you the most this summer.

I want to be home, but I don't want to leave home either. It's an issue I have yet to fully resolve. For now, though, all I can do is take a part of home with me to remind me of what I have to look forward to when I return and I know you'll be waiting, just as I am.

For just as I counted down the days to leave here, I'm already counting the days until I return.


Don't miss me too much even though I already miss you.