"The Heavens Move So Slow"

Ever get that feeling that the world around you is crumbling, and there's not a lot you can do about it? That everyone else is having these crises and transitions, and all you can do is sit in the rut you've worn, down in your groove while everything else flashes by at breakneck speed?

Yeah, me neither.

Beth's gone. I'm starting to figure out what that means (which is mostly that the time which I used to spend in her company--which was considerable during the spring semester--is now spent alone, for the most part). I'll cope, I'm sure, but it annoys me that I have to try to make new friends again. I was happy with the ones I had.

And therein lies an interesting bit of my psyche, laid bare before my own eyes--Beth's leaving saddens me, yes, but mostly it annoys me, because now there's a hole in my life that she was filling quite well. It means that I have to find new people--something that, while not necessarily easy, is at least a simple and straightforward (if time consuming) task. A task which I see as more of a nuisance than anything else.

Jess and Dom are a help, or will be, though they can only do so much--they are a married couple, and have their own concerns and plans to deal with. They know what they want, where they're going, what they will do or at least attempt to do. And Ev's got problems of his own, problems which--though I think I've found a flash of insight into how to help him with them--are still problems he needs to deal with himself, and he doesn't need my annoyance added to it.

In a way, I'm kinda cast adrift. Yeah, I know that's at odds with the rut metaphor, but it still applies. I don't know what I'm doing or dealing with. Yeah, I have troubles to contend with, and even issues I need to work through, but I haven't for a minute assumed I won't or can't work through most of them. My life is a series of annoyances--problems that don't seriously jeopardize my existence, but which do cause me irritation. Sometimes that irritation is on level with a bug buzzing around my head, and sometimes it's more akin to having sandpaper under my skin. Each irritation has a solution--swat the bug, or extract the sandpaper from under my skin by some means. It hasn't occured to me that there may not be any solutions for any of my current concerns. It hasn't occured to me that I won't get out of the rut, or find an anchor to keep me from drifting off on the tide. There's a surety about me, a sense that I'll solve my problems if given enough time or enough pressure to perform.

But is that a way for me to live? Sure, it gives me an easier time when dealing with problems than, say, Ev has, but is that necessarily a good thing? My life has lacked serious hardship thusfar because, to be quite honest, I'm a spoiled little bastard. I've had it easy my whole life. My concerns haven't been of life and death, but of which positive road to follow. I mean, hell, I've had the luxury of studying freakin' history, for crying out loud. And if the PhD thing doesn't work out, I've got other choices already lined up. Something will pan out there. And the thing with Beth leaving--yeah, it hurts that she's gone, but I'll make more friends. When Jess and Dom leave, I'll make other friends. When I leave here, and don't have Ev or any of the others around anymore, I'll make more friends. They won't be better or worse than the friends I've had here, just as the friends I've had here aren't any better or worse than the ones at Ozarks or even high school. They'll just be different friends.

My life is soft.

Whether this is ultimately good or bad has yet to become clear. I hope and pray it just means that my life will turn out as it ought to, and that I won't simply serve as an example of what not to be to future generations.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Wilco, "We're Just Friends"