no sense

feeling strange today. new year’s eve has always been hard, though I can’t quite figure out why. for me the day comes with an expectation that things should feel resolved, though this is never the case. tomorrow is another day, though our calendars treat it as a new year altogether. the pressure we put on these days to mean something overwhelms me. I’m left feeling a little lost.

I hope you’ve found some joy in this year. I know it’s been strange for everyone. the thought that tomorrow everything will change and it’ll be as though this year never happened taunts me. I know it’s impossible and still I entertain the idea that this can be undone. maybe it’ll get easier and make more sense soon. maybe next year will be better. I hope it is for you. << x

nye

why does the end of this mess of a year feel as blue as any other?

Christmas

it’s already Christmas here. I remember how excited I used to be for the big day. sleep was impossible and I couldn’t bear the waiting. I’d wake two hours too early for presents and wish time would pass faster. it never did, but the time would come eventually. we’d run into the lounge room and tear into the gifts we’d been left overnight, and somehow it’d all be worth the wait.

things are different now. though I still love the carols and the smell of the tree, Christmas is another day between me and the people and things that I still miss so much. the magic I used to love seems lost on me now, though maybe that was always going to happen at some point. I wish for things that can’t be bought, and presents do little for me now.

I don’t know if this is just a part of growing up or if it’s something more. but I know that so much has changed since Lewes, and I doubt it’ll ever really feel the same again. I’m lucky to be safe and surrounded by love, but the missing never stops. I thought time would help, though it’s only made it all so much more precious. I pray for answers to impossible questions, and curse the distance that only seems to grow with time. but I still remember everything despite the year that’s passed. my memories are as clear as the day I left. they’re all I have left, and though I wish for something more, maybe they’re enough. << x

an open letter to everyone I’ve ever known

hi. I hope this letter finds you well. it’s probably been a while since we’ve last spoken. maybe we’ve hardly even spoken at all. regardless of how our paths have crossed or how well we’ve known each other, I hope that you’re finding some goodness in the midst of whatever is going on in your life right now. I know that this is a little strange - people don’t write letters that much anymore - but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I wanted to write to let you know that, amongst many other things, you have been in my thoughts.

this year has been weird for everyone (and I’m sure you’re sick of hearing these words by now). I’ve been lucky to have been safe and surrounded by care through the chaos. unlike so many of you, my life has slowed down during this crazy time. in the midst of my studies and other distractions my mind has wandered, and as a result I’ve stumbled into a handful of realisations about the world and myself that I’ve found quite confronting. this is why I wanted to write to you.

uncertainty has led me to question a lot of things lately. in my confusion of who and what I’m meant to be I’ve looked back at the people I’ve known and realised it’s likely I’ll never see most of them again. though I know it’s no more than a natural part of life, the impermanence of everything scares me. I ask myself all these questions that seem to get me nowhere. do paths cross for nothing? does it all happen just to be forgotten with time? so many cherished friendships and times in my life seem to have expired, yet it feels wrong to ignore their passing without honouring the gifts they’ve given. if you’re reading this, I’m lucky enough to know or have known you in the past. before time gets in the way, I want to thank you for whatever role you’ve played in my story, however brief or distant. I’m aware that growth and change are good things, though I feel uncomfortable with the expectation that I should move on without ever acknowledging what has mattered to me.

I think often of the impermanence of everything in my life. it’s all so fragile. with this in mind I recognise change as one of the few constants we can count on, as people slip in and out of each other’s stories. I’m unsure of how to make sense of it, and I still lose sleep over my fear of forgetting all that once mattered. I miss many of the friends I’ve lost to time and distance. some of you have known me for longer than you might have liked. though I’m still in touch with some of you right now, I can’t see into the future, and I know how cruel time can be. I also know that it’s not just time: people change and grow, and in doing so choose to move on from their past. I might’ve offended or burdened you. perhaps our paths crossed at the wrong time. maybe we knew each other from a happy distance. even if I’m someone you’d rather forget, I want more than anything to wish you good luck with your story and wherever it takes you. I hope you find what you’re hoping for somewhere.

I realise this seems excessive and probably quite strange. I can’t blame you for not reading this far. but in my missing many things lately I’ve realised how strongly I feel about the past and the impossible wish that I might forever treasure all who have passed through my life and given it meaning. it’s now been a year since I flew home from a life I still miss every day. though it hurts to grow further from that time and those people each day, in my missing I realise how lucky I’ve been. despite the time and distance that sits between us, I wanted to thank you for being or slipping in and out of my life. I am who I am because of those I’ve known.

I’ve rewritten this too many times now, and I’m laughing at how dramatic it sounds. I could’ve tried to swallow the feelings and not say anything, but regret is a messy thing and my want to write to you trumped my fear of embarrassment. I can’t offer you much more than my confused words, but I hope in whatever direction your path takes you that you’re able to find some sense of peace and purpose. if it means anything to you, I’m grateful that our paths have crossed. thank you for the time you’ve given, and for being a part of my story at some point, even if our chapter is in the past now. whilst I can’t hold onto everything that’s mattered, I can try my best to remember with gratitude as I keep going.

take care, wherever you are. love always,

Dan

birthdays

birthdays are strange and I struggle with them. as a child I remember wishing time would hurry up. I was so excited to grow up, and each year my birthday seemed to excite me like nothing else would. times have changed, and I envy the joy who once groaned over how slow time passed. birthdays remind me now of aging, that I’m growing older despite nothing seeming any clearer. there’s an expectation to entertain at least some of the excitement I once struggled to control as a child over these obligatory celebrations, though I’m struggling to play along this year. my relationship with time and myself only grows colder with each passing year. sometimes I wish I never sobered to the constant ticking of the clock. I can’t ignore it now.

the missing continues despite the growing distance and the ticking. I’m not sure what to do, though I doubt I’ve ever known. << x

home

it’s the 18th of December. this means I’ve been home for a whole year now. despite taking so much from me, time passes so swiftly, without kicking up any fuss at all. this Wednesday marked five years since Louise passed away in the accident that changed so many lives. I don’t quite understand how so much time has passed. sometimes it feels as though it were yesterday I was waiting for her to pick me up in her new car that very afternoon. I remember how hot it was that day. I wished I’d brought a hat. it’s funny to look back and realise I still remember these useless details half a decade later.

losing a close friend changed my life to a great extent. I think it was Lou’s passing that really fueled my fear of losing things and people that matter to me. her anniversary now falls on that of the day I left England. somehow this week has become a series of dates that serve to remind me of past joys I miss. beginning with the end of our time in Lewes, and finishing with my birthday, a yearly reminder that whether I like it or not, I am growing older and further from all that I miss. the week is long and full of reminders of things I wish I still had. though I’m grateful to still have my memories of Louise and my friends and the time we shared in the village, I don’t know what I’m meant to do with them, or the sadness my missing still brings me.

I’m surrounded by good things, and being home shouldn’t make me feel sad. yet I still feel an undeniable emptiness here. everything seems to mean less now, and it’s only in missing that I feel strongly for anything anymore. I don’t know where I’m meant to go from here - it seems I’ve been stuck here for quite some time. I hope I can find a way out someday, and that it might make some more sense in time. I hope I can learn how to feel whole again. << x

leaving Lewes

it’s now a year since we left. words fail today. my missing only seems to grow as time passes and sends me further from the friends I once shared my life with for a few sacred months. I’ve not seen them for a year now. though I remind myself of how lucky I’ve been to have crossed paths with them in our sleepy bonfire town, the sorrow still finds me now after all this time. I miss my friends and the time we shared more than I could ever hope to say. words fail today. I’m lost. << x

our last day

it’s a year since our last day in the village. I don’t know how this is meant to make me feel, though I’ve dreaded the thought of being so far from that precious time for a while now. I know the distance hasn’t changed since I arrived home last December, but the time seems to make the loss seem greater as it passes.

last night I spoke to Mat about everything. he tells me he finds it easier to not think about Lewes and the things he misses. I told him I wish I could do that sometimes, though so much of my life now seems to be my missing. Mat confessed to wishing for that time again, despite his unwillingness to dwell on everything we left behind in the village. I’m learning slowly that we all have different ways of grieving and moving through the losses we face.

a year ago today I had my final class on campus. I explored Brighton one last time wirh Emma and Jan. we all went to Lansdown for drinks, after which we had our final night in 53, laughing and drinking cups of tea with biscuits. today I saw some friends. we had a picnic in the sun. it was nice, and for a brief moment I forgot the sadness I woke up to upon realising a year had passed since my final full day in Lewes.

tomorrow will be a year to the day since we left the village. despite having had so much time to prepare for the anniversary of this loss, I feel so small before it now. my life since leaving has consisted completely of my missing. I long for my friends and the world that we shared in that funny old hotel. I don’t know what I’m meant to do with this longing. I hope it comes to make sense with time - the village and the crossing of our paths there - and that I might someday know the joy I knew there once again. << x

raining

it rained a lot today. the sun came and went every hour or so, slipping in and out of clouds and showers that lingered and never really left. we’re a week into summer now, and though I’ve grown to expect such bipolar weather on the island, today it made me think of Lewes and the perpetual storm clouds that must only be growing stronger by the day. I wondered if it was raining there too, as it had almost every night during my short time there.

I miss many things about the village and the life I found there. but it’s only recently that I’ve realised how much I miss the weather. it’s strange to greet summer with reluctance now. the days are warmer and I’m supposed to be happy about it. I find it hard to pretend I’m content with this constant passing of time, which only seems to make the distance between me and everything I miss seem greater. another summer shouldn’t be a big deal, and I know rain or winter wouldn’t make it all better. but at least the cold and the clouds make a little more sense to my fragile mind.

I’m another year older in a couple of weeks. I’ll graduate too, closing another chapter. even more bewildering is the fact that I’ll have been home for a whole year before then. I still catch myself struggling to believe it’s all over, that this coming home to my old life isn’t just a temporary thing prolonging our return to our shared life in the village. sometimes it feels as though I haven’t lived a day since coming back: that the time has just passed and I’ve watched it playing out before me from a distance. I don’t know what to make of these feelings or the path before me. sleep is the only thing that makes sense anymore. I miss and I miss and I wonder what I’m meant to do << x