𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 - 𝐁.𝐄

forty two - holocene

•
julia.
•

december 21st.

since august, life has been surprisingly okay. no, it's definitely not perfect, and most certainly not magical, but it's been.... steady. and it's been that way for what feels like the first time in a while.

claire and i? we're close again. like really close, like the way we were before all the mess.

and elliot? we've managed to settle back into a comfortable rhythm too. we laugh, we talk, we hang out without any of that tension hovering over us like a cloud.

there was a moment that i thought i might lose both of my greatest friends forever, but we're all good now. all of us hangout, study, and have sleepovers as much as we can in between all our schoolwork.

as for my mom, well, she still disappears on those endless business trips. but when she's here, we've made it a point to cut out time just for each other to try and make it count. it still feels fragile, like something we're both afraid to mess up, but we're trying. we're getting better. slowly, but surely.

college has been going well, way better than i expected honestly. the campus feels like a second home now, the routine of it all has been anchoring me and also contributed into keeping me steady in a way that i hadn't realized i needed.

but as of right now, i'm on winter break, and the soft snow has started falling. it drifts down like soft dust particles, brushing my pale skin with its delicate yet cold touch every time that i step outside. every time i walk to the bus station, i feel the beauty of nature for a moment. sure, i love the coastal life in the summer, but after getting too familiar with the warm beach, you miss the cold, making those first few winter snowfalls have you wishing that it would never end.

there's something different about it this time of year. i love it—truly. i've got a small collection of north face coats that i wait all year to wear, stowed away in my mudroom's closet during the summer while just waiting for the first sign of cold air so i'll wrap myself in them. if i'm being real, there's only three coats, but whos counting?

anyways, there's something about pulling one on and zipping it up, feeling the comfort of it on my shoulders to shield against the chill of the world—it's oh-so comforting.

the snow always takes me back. i used to love playing in it with my dad when i was younger. our backyard was so flat that made winter seem almost boring, but that never stopped us from having snowball fights at least. but when that wasn't enough, he'd drive me to the nearby park where the hills seemed to stretch on forever, blanketed in white fluffy snow. we'd spend hours sledding down them, my laughter ringing out into the cold and foggy air as i'd tumble off those cheap plastic sleds, the both of us covered in snow but not caring one bit. nostalgia can be either a pain, or such a divine feeling. sometimes, it's both at the same time.

when the first snowfall had happened this winter, i took claire and elliot to those same hills. we sledded down like kids, laughing, racing each other, letting the cold bite at our rosy cheeks and fingers until we couldn't even feel them anymore. it felt good. really good. like how friendship is supposed to feel—easy, lightweight, as if nothing could touch us up here—as if all the bad things in the world seemed to disappear completely, even if it would only be temporary.

i'm honestly so grateful things aren't weird with elliot. after hooking up this summer, i was sure it'd hang over us forever. we swore that we wouldn't let it happen again before we did it. but this time when we made the same promise, we were both being for real. we'd stick to being friends. and we have. somehow, we've managed to navigate through it all without falling apart and without losing each other to whatever that moment was.