I've been back for several Sundays, but just now it's hit me how weird it is to come back to the church of my childhood for extended periods. Talking to family friends about my future plans. Explaining to concerned motherly figures why a recent venture into a relationship didn't work out. Expressing general amiability to all and expounding on my gratefulness for being on break.
Coming to terms with being a senior. How did that happen so quickly?
More and more these days, people seem to have a hard time recognizing me both in appearance and personality. Odd enough for me: have really I changed so much? Perhaps I have.
Maybe that's why I'm suddenly so eager to get out and away, to be free to start something worthwhile and entirely my own. The idea of being different is becoming more attractive as time wears on, I think. I don't want to be unapproachable to the people who know me from my childhood, but... don't we all want it acknowledged that we aren't who we once were? That we've grown up, and we have accomplishments to our name that are ours? That we are just as valuable as we are now as we were then? That we are worth knowing as we are now?
I have too much time to myself now that I'm home. Please, someone, save me from idle contemplation. This type of melancholic reflection can be the only product.