Bright.

Even in the somewhat dreary sunshine (seems like a contradiction, doesn't it?) of the outside world, I find myself renewed. It is as though I've molted the bruised, battered, and scarred casing of before to reveal a pink (or perhaps, in my case, yellow) and fleshy undercoat.

The bully, Depression, has scurried away -- though his return is always a looming threat. But I've come to realize that I can't always be planning, or expecting, his arrival. If all of my time and all of my energy goes to dead-bolting the door and boarding up my windows, how will I ever let the sunlight in? How will I ever feel safe enough to venture into the world around me? It does me no good to act like that or to think like that. If he has to come back, and I think he may have to at some point in the future, wouldn't it be great if I were laying on a beach somewhere, warming myself in the sun's rays, so that he would barge into an empty home? What a disappointment!

There have been a few things leading to this mental change, I think. One would be, of course, the wonderful, glorious change in the weather. The brighter the sun shines, the happier I become. There's no hiding that -- and I know that I'm not the only one. The release of those endorphins is no joke. Another reason would be the compass necklace I received as a gift. A simple gesture, really, but one that meant (and still means) the world to me; a constant reminder that, even when I feel as though I can never find my way back home, I am never truly lost. All I have to do is open the necklace's latch to reveal the working compass and retrace my steps. Plus, the person from whence it came matters more to me than I could have ever imagined, and he fills my heart in ways I never dreamed. He has also helped me find hope in even the darkest of days, simply by being a major part of my life, and for that, I will always be grateful.

A third reason would be the active steps I have taken into being healthier. Cutting out fast food and coffee (again) has already made a difference. I've also been sticking with my "at least 1/2 hour of yoga, every day" routine. I attempted to do the P90X yoga video today, which is an hour and a half long, and only made it through the first hour before my body rebelled. I think that I will have to work my way up to that, as it is more intense than any yoga I've done before. But that is a goal -- to be able to complete that video without any sort of hesitation. And having goals, especially healthy ones, are uplifting.

Plus, I have found my hope. I do not know where I found it or where it had gone in the first place, but we have been reunited again. I am becoming more involved with my job, even though I am still unsure of where to go from here (and I've come to know that that's all right). I have decided that, within the next year, I will travel. I will, of course, take smaller trips -- maybe to the likes of DC to visit friends or back to New England to do the same -- but I have decided that I will take at least one big trip within the next year. It could be across the country or across the ocean. It really matters not. All I know is that I will.

I have found my peace with the Unknown (and it does deserve a capitalization here). I do not know where I am headed. I do not know how much longer I will stay with Apple. I do not know where I will go in my Graduate Studies. But what I do know is that I have been provided a gift -- and that gift is my not knowing. Others have their lives planned out before they can even protest. They are told that they will be doctors, they will be housewives, they will be lawyers. And while all of those things are wonderful and needed in their own right, there is no freedom there. They cannot say, "I find my joy in something else, so I will pursue that something else to make me happy." They must do what has been decided for them.

I don't have that. Those restrictions don't touch me. They never have.

What a beautiful, magnificent gift.

How could I waste it?

- May (you never lose hope).

Reporting Live

After having a brief conversation with someone I went to school with, he mentioned that he missed college, or at least the city.

I thought about it and realized .. I don't miss it. That's not to say I don't miss spending more time with the people I'd come to love, or that I don't miss random little things about the campus (like the fountain by Hunt-Cavanaugh or the way the leaves were always treacherously slippery up the Guzman Hill and by Sullivan Hall when I cut through the path between the trees because I was always late for work). But .. I'm okay. I see that part of my life as having lived out its short, four-year life. I gained the experiences I needed, I made life-long friends, I grew, I found myself, I figured some parts of my life out, I struggled and stared Death straight in the face and then told him to go fuck himself, I made it through and walked across that stage.

I was ready to go. I was ready for the next chapter of my life. I've somehow gotten to a place of complete .. peace. I'm no longer living in the past. I'm not looking at pictures from college longingly, wishing I could have more moments. Because somehow, having more would diminish the ones I already have. I know that I'll see my friends as often as our schedules allow. We won't lose touch that easily. It'll require more effort than just shouting down the hall, but it'll be worth it.

I've finally figured out how to live in the moment. I have no idea how, but God damn.

It feels amazing.

- May (you choose to live).

It's Official.

I hate New England weather.

I should probably mention that I've hated it for a long time. Probably since I first step foot on the soils of the small Ocean State four years ago. I came ill-equipped to my first year of college: no rain boots, no rain coat, no umbrella. Sure, it rains in New York, but not like New England.

I smartened up my second year. I bought a pair of rain boots from Target.com and they have probably been one of the best investments I ever made. I now have a rain coat, too, after having needing one when I lived in London for a month.

But as I sit at my desk, the tips of my fingers nearly blue and frozen and falling off (okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating a little bit), with the roar of the wind and the rain crashing against the bricks outside of my apartment ... I realize how much I really do loathe the weather.

Yet.

I'm going to miss it in 12 days. I'll pack up all of my things and leave this room the way I entered it -- empty, without personality, without sheets on the bed or crap all over the floor (not literal crap, mind you), without the drawers full of clothes and things, without laughter and tears and memories. It'll hit me during the first rainstorm of the summer, back in New York. I'll pull out my boots and my rain coat and somehow ..

I'll feel incomplete.

And maybe, just maybe, a little, tiny piece of me will miss the freezing cold of a New England rainstorm in the beginning of May. Maybe a little piece of me will smile nostalgically as I think about how it can still get so cold, even when it's in the midst of Spring. Maybe a little piece of me will even miss hearing the roars over the Red Sox winning a -- you know what, no. That won't ever happen.

Sorry. I'm clearly getting delusional.

- May (you let go when you need to let go).

90 Degrees. In April.

Remember that time that I almost sweat my hypothetical balls off because Rhode Island experienced a freak heat wave in the middle of April?

Yeah, so do I.

The weather here has been cooky. Kooky? Hm. I'm never sure how to spell that word; not that I have to do it that often. But anyway, it's been weird. Over the past week, the temperature has shot up to the high 80's/low 90's, taking everyone by surprise. Some people flourish in this weather. Me? There's a reason I chose to attend a school in New England. I can handle 65 - 70 degrees. 75 is the max. Anything over that, and I'm wishing that indecent exposure wasn't a crime.

But it got me thinking. On a day like today, I can't help but think about how .. powerless we are. We like to think we're in control of every aspect of our lives: who we talk to, what we eat, what to wear, who to sleep with, whatever. But, at the end of the day, we're pushed out of the pilot's seat and told to enjoy the ride.

We can't control the weather, for instance. If I could, I would turn the temperature down just a notch. Okay, more like a lot of notches. But I can't. No one can. We just have to make do and adjust and keep on trucking. Because it's those random things that keep life interesting. Keep us on our toes.

I don't know about you, but I have really weak ankles and knees, meaning I will never be a ballerina. Staying on my toes constantly does wear down the joints, and eventually, my legs give out and I collapse to the ground.

But I've realized .. it's okay. It's okay to collapse and fall. It's okay to even want to stay down on the ground for a little while, to recooperate. It's okay to cry, to complain, to whine about it, to lay back and accept defeat for a little while. But not indefinitely.

Eventually, you get up. You curse your weak ankles and knees and you try again.

And if you find yourself in the middle of a heat wave, find yourself a fan and forget the ballet all together.

- May (you have fun during the proverbial dance).