lonely water

I tried to avoid having that word in two sequential titles but it just seemed to fit. I’m not lonely, really, but the July blues have hit and humidity has set in and I haven’t been sure that my thoughts are worth anyone reading.

The Parks and Rec theme song has been my sole Netflix soundtrack lately. It’s my favorite show because from the first episode to the last the characters grow and become lovable even when they aren’t likable, which I feel mirrors real life fairly well. Leslie can be overbearing, Ron isn’t always nice, April is far too sarcastic, Andy is a dweeb…….but they stick together and allow each other to make mistakes and never let one another think, “Oh, what if they don’t love me?”

Maybe lonely has been following me around because even as senior year edges closer on the calendar, so does the reality of friendship dynamics. Freshman year we were an inseparable group, on the same page concerning burdens and status, content to only be friends with each other. Now, between marriages, clinicals, new roommate relationships and leadership positions, my group is spreading thinner, finding certain niches within to confide in and attach to.

Okay, so that relationship dynamic probably wasn’t healthy and it seems to be part of the whole “growing up” thing that we don’t completely spill our hearts out to each other……but on this Friday in July, it’s still hard to be at peace with change.

To keep myself from being shades of the ocean, here’s my game plan (future self, take heed):

  • Take pictures, even if they’re crappy quality and will never be posted on Facebook. I’m a sentimental twit and am going to want captured memories to look back on when lonely days visit after graduation.
  • Be content with the direction my friendships are headed, whether that be hugging and crying together for the rest of our days or realizing that love sometimes needs to sit in the backseat and let friends go their own ways in life.
  • Spread out and give myself the opportunity to invest in younger girls, specifically the babes on my hall. My sphere of influence will greatly condense after graduation, so I have nine more months to be the best possible big sister in Ohio.

That verse from Ecclesiastes keeps popping up in my heart. For some reason that I am unable to comprehend, the Creator of baby’s fingernails and sunrise hues says that endings are better than beginnings and that I need to trust Him.

(Future self, work on that for us?)


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