Looking Outward

Tomorrow (today? I haven't been to bed yet) is orientation for school, even though it's Labor Day. Am I the only person who thinks it's weird? I don't have class on Tuesday, but then I'll have class on Wednesday and Thursday. I feel like I've been waiting forever for class to start . . . I know I've only been here about two and a half weeks, but it really does feel like forever ago that I got here. Without class, and without everyone up here, I felt like I had completely deserted myself up here somehow.

So I'm really glad class is starting.

Plus, I have something to work toward, now. I booked an airline ticket last night to go home in about two and a half weeks. I found a cheap one (no easy task since gas and oil have skyrocketed) and now I feel better about being here. I like having certain things to take for granted, because it gives me something to work hard for.

Speaking of something to work for . . . after a week of being cranky and difficult and mired in past offenses, I've decided to work harder at burying the hatchet with Dan. For the past six months we've had a really good relationship — and that's considerably longer than the two months of, well, not good stuff. A month ago I decided it was time to leave it be, but then some unexpected stuff came up. (I am continually amazed at how dense people can be.) I wasn't prepared for it. It was all the final stuff that I'd wanted taken care of months ago. It was all the last little nagging worries I'd had but just decided would never come to pass. But they did — and I don't think I reacted totally irrationally, but I'm tired of having to react at all. Maybe now things are tidied up, maybe now it won't be an issue anymore. I can certainly hope.

A friend warned me that because the beginning of our relationship really was founded on such rockiness, it's pretty stupid for either Dan or I to expect to totally forget what happened anytime soon.

But what's reassuring to me is that we had a lot of good stuff before all that. For months before we started dating, we became best friends. So we have months of great stuff, two months of shit, then six months of more good stuff . . . so while I've decided to not look at the past as much, perhaps I should remember our entire past, not just the uncomfortable parts.

And that gives me a lot more hope for the future. Because, as was said, "Love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction."

Antoine de Saint-Exupery. What a name, huh?

Things in general are looking a lot better, out there.