from the archives - mar. 9, 2024

I’d be lost without FaceTime. Being so far away from my friends and family is only manageable because I can call them, see them, anytime I want.

But there comes a point when FaceTime doesn’t cut it anymore. Sometimes, I get in this mood. I’m frozen in my bed, on my couch. Tears are falling and I get the overwhelming sensation of being utterly alone. This doesn’t happen often, because most of the time the aloneness I feel doesn’t equate to loneliness. I don’t typically feel lonely. But when I do, I think of all the people who want to be there for me, and who would be, if only I reached out. But I don’t want to call anyone, and I don’t want to text.

I want to lay my head in my mom’s lap and feel her play with my hair. She’d know exactly how to comfort me.

I want to go on a walk with Lindsey, homemade iced coffees in hand. She’d have the perfect advice to give.

I want to drive to Sonic with Mak and drown my sorrows in a corn dog and tater tots. She’d have the best playlist for all my big feelings.

I want to have an 8-hour at-home dinner date with Hailey, where it takes us so long to finish our food because we’re talking so much. She’d have the yummiest recipe - a superb combination that would nourish and comfort me.

I want to have a night out with Tara. Dancing and espresso martinis and late-night conversations. She’d know exactly what to do to take my mind off of everything.

But when I realize they’re not here, and that it’s no easy feat to get to them, I’m at a loss for what to do. Who do I lean on when there is no one in this city who knows me like they do?

The part where I lean on myself harder or reach out to new friends makes me stronger. But sometimes I don’t have the energy. And then what?

Life as it is, I suppose.

To finding the people in this city who do,

Lo