Goodnight Brutus.

There are undercurrents of emotion I’ve been feeling  but am not sure where they came from or what caused them to reach me. They affect me like subtle ripples on a lake that was never still to begin with. The only thing is that I don’t see these movements on the water, yet they rock my boat. Why me? Was I supposed to feel them before – am I too late?

There are ten days until I return to England for school. There is still homework to be done and more friends to meet up with here. It hasn’t been enough. There is not enough alcohol to expose my Freudian slips that are still stinging the tip of my tongue. There is not enough time to allow me a good night of peaceful sleep without thinking I’m wasting my time doing nothing when there are so many things to salvage. A part of me knows that there’s something more than mere homework that must be done.

While walking around today, I saw that stores that had been in those locations for ages were now replaced by other brands. There was a shock that came over me, but I couldn’t express it because it wasn’t that severe an emotion to address at three in the afternoon. It must have been the afternoon. Because just sitting in a chair that night and being the last one to receive the news sent an earthquake jangling through me in a matter of seconds.

I feel desperate. Rome wasn’t built overnight but coming back, I found it smashed and scattered in a matter of three months. It feels like I’m standing in the empty courtyard of a large temple, wailing for help and all I get back are echoes. I feel like Portia, who is standing nervously behind her great love, disappointed and afraid to approach him. And even though I don’t say it, my mind is screaming, “En tu, Brute?” I swallow the hot coals but they don’t kill me. They don’t kill me.

I like change. “Change is the only constant.” I like spontaneity and I live for improvement. Most days, I try to embrace pain. So today, this is me embracing pain, and I have questions: Where is the consistency, what faded and does friendship need a leader to guide it or will it take care of itself with my two eyes closed? I’m on the other side of the world, mind you. When you wake up I go to sleep, and vice versa. Time has changed so many things and reviewing what isn’t there anymore sucks a lot of energy from a person like me. I’ve felt loved and neglected all at once and all I can say is that I have never been this overwhelmed. I exhaust myself, and my anger exhausts you.

The parties have been great, the food has been amazing, and the company has been like old times. But there is something missing, and I need you to figure out what that is with me. You say I’m a drama mama, and you say I’m intense. But I don’t want to see you anymore.

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