I'm okay. I keep telling myself those two words over and over like maybe the more I repeat the phrase maybe I'll actually believe it and it will actually come to pass. I sat here today, with a friend. It felt weird, hearing him say a majority of the time, "You know you can talk to me." While giving hugs each time. It's common, people saying that. My grandparents say those things as well. And even though I understand and know full well that they are there, there's just certain people I need, well how can I put it?
Since I'm writing this in real time, right now at 8:54 the line "I need you so much closer" in Transatlanticism just passed. So I guess that's what I'm saying. I need you so much closer. There's certain people that I need to talk to, and talking to them is different from others. Some live right down the road and others, well they're across oceans. Even though they're minutes or miles away, I feel like they could never be farther, yet closer at the same time. It's like these oceans separate us, I could go across them, and I could also walk the miles across valleys just to be near you. It doesn't matter what it takes, the point is, you're close to me. I walked simply down the street a few minutes ago, and as I got chewed out by my grandparents for not letting them know, I easily thought about disappearing down the road. Now my friend told me that if I left, he'd be sad. Possibly, my physical disappearance would be saddening, but I'm just talking about a metaphorical disappearance as of right now. I'll swim across oceans, dive into seas. Spend my nights in rivers, only come up to breathe. I still think people are worried. Telling me to get back on social media. I don't want to. If you need me that bad, text my phone. Or even, the old fashioned way, write a letter. I'd definitely write back, no doubt. You might not be able to understand my handwriting. My aunt always said good artists had bad handwriting because they were more focused on their art. Is that true? I'll never know, I always thought it was just a compliment on my artwork. Home is soon, but until I'm ready, you're just reading my words. I still wait to hear, "Welcome home, child" but you know when you choose your own way out, you don't get to hear those words that they keep teaching you in Sunday School. What a pity. Waiting on God's plan is kind of making me impatient. Oh, while you're reading this, if you do manage to speak to me, don't bring up Solemn. There's nothing in this I want to discuss with you at all. It's here because it needs to be. If you have a question regarding something, I'd advise you to change it up so I don't recognize it. And also remember, no sharing this. It's for your eyes only. If I wanted others knowing, they'd know. I feel like these messages are getting shorter. I don't know really though. I think I'm starting to have less to say. Better for you at least. That's less to read. I'd like to swim the oceans and meet one last time though before the book is over. Oh, which reminds me. This book will have some things in it later. You might not like reading it, but if I didn't trust you I wouldn't let you see. Understand? Thank you, I think that's all for now. Until we meet again, Goodbye.
~Audry
