To You

I went to Todd and Allison's for dinner tonight. My uncle Mark was there too; he's in Salt Lake for business. Of all my uncles, I've never felt very close to Mark. Our personalities are quite different, and sometimes he made me uncomfortable with all of his outgoing craziness. But tonight was different. I felt like I could confide in him. I could tell him what I disliked about Utah: the weather, the bubble, the lack of diversity. He told me about work and we watched youtube. And when he drove me back to Provo it wasn't weird at all; no awkward pauses, no uncomfortable stares. We talked about church things as though he were still active. I would have told him about you if he'd asked. And he said he's writing a novel set in Utah.

As he explained his novel to me in the car, driving down Provo canyon in the dark and the snow, I realized he is a lot like me. He's gone through some really hard things, and it seems that he tries to work them out through the novel. I don't think he does it intentionally, and it isn't why he started writing. But some of the experiences in his life -- memorable experiences, hard experiences -- are placed in his book, and I don't think they're chosen at random. My family has so much potential but also has a lot of hurt. So many difficulties I never realized that don't seem fair. But maybe it's because they are so great. We are not given trials too much for us to bear. Maybe we are capable of bearing a lot. We have.

Maybe that's part of the reason I connect well with them. I was sitting on the couch next to Mark, totally comfortable just being there with these people I love. I love them because they are intelligent. I love them because they are funny. I love them because they are kind and genuine and they care about the world. But I must also love them because they suffer. I empathize with them. When they struggle, I do too. I can feel their pain. And no matter what they do, no matter how many mistakes they make, I will still love them. Because they are my family. And even though I feel like everyone has left me, all my friends and all the people I trust, I still have my family. I will always love them and they will always love me. I can talk to them about everything. School and work and church and friends. My loneliness. My pain. Everything. I am loved. I am not alone. I will always have my family.

independence

I wonder if we are ever totally satisfied with who we are and what we are doing.

I'm about to begin my fourth semester at Brigham Young University. I am sitting on my couch in the apartment; the heat is at 74 and Jamie is doing laundry (again). I've had mixed feelings about this semester. My roommate is off to Spain, so I'm living with someone I have never met. My work and school schedules don't quite fit as I'd like them to, and I have to give up some things that are important to me to make it work. I despise the cold weather. My family is far away, again, and that is always hard for me. And all of my boys have been leaving slowly for the past six months, the last of which will head out in 10 days. That has been rough, and sometimes I haven't handled it well. I did a lot of crying my last week at home, and told my dad I didn't want to come back. And yet, I am at peace here.

I like school. I like learning things, and I love my English Language classes. They help me accept my nerdiness, of which I have an abundance. I like being busy. Sometimes it's nice to just sit and relax, but if I had too much free time I would not be happy. Plus, I work better under pressure with too much to do. I like the people I have met. In my classes, my apartment, my neighbors, old friends, professors. They have all helped me in some small way to define my self. And as much as I miss my family, I like living by myself. I like choosing how I spend my time and organizing my own schedule and being accountable to me. Independence. Eventual self-reliance.

I realized on the flight out here that I have changed more than I imagined. People always talk about changing so much at college, but after 3.5 semesters, I didn't feel like I had. I felt the same to me. I think maybe I'm just becoming more of my self; I'm learning how to be comfortable with who I am and the way my life is going. I do what I have to do, and I get satisfaction from knowing that I have done my best. I know that some things are going to be really, really hard, and that sometimes I will have to be completely on my own -- a scary thought for me. But I think I can do it now. I never had enough confidence in myself before. I'm growing up, something I never wanted to do. But it's not so bad. I'm better at it than I ever thought I would be.

Things will work out.