I’m a really big people person. I love humans. Maybe not all humans, okay definitely not ALL humans. I guess I’m actually not so much a people person as I am a life person. I really love life. I love the idea of humans but well, they’re kind of scary. Let me elaborate on that.
I am enamored with the human existence. I love that life exists, and I do love humans, but not in the “I want to hug all of you” type of way because goodness I am not a “hugger” (that is just way too much closeness in my closeness and if I don’t know what size shoe you are then chances are I don’t want to hug you). So I’m not a people person in the let me hug you type, but more so the please tell me your entire life story, but while you’re doing so I’m going to need to interrupt you every five minutes and ask questions because thats how my mind works. And after I know your story I’m going to need continuous updates on how it’s going, I can’t help it, I need to know that the people I know are alive and thriving. So yeah, I’m a half people person I guess, but only half because here’s the other part…come on now this blog has existed for years and years, you knew the shoe had to drop.
……I don’t have that many people in my little bubble. Shocker I know right, but Merideth I thought you were a people person. I AM, but I HATE change. I DESPISE change. You see I “find” people and I discover how incredible they are, and I “rope” them into my bubble. I become inspired by them, and enamored with their will at life, and all of these things, they become MY people. So when big life things happen (as they naturally do), things change, and my people change, and grow. Don’t get me wrong these are all AMAZING things, but these things make me uncomfortable, because they force me to readjust, to take a step back and to appreciate what has been, but also nudge me into what will be. And that shit is scary y’all. Are you picking up what I’m putting down yet? I love people, but they scare me; because life happens, and I prefer to live in a bubble in which I know all of my people will be safe, and healthy, and feel loved, and be truly happy.
So my roommate Rachel. She moves to Texas in a month. To put it simply; I couldn’t be more proud of her. I envy her adventurous spirit and her exploring heart as she packs up everything and moves away from her home, and onto a new journey. I truly couldn’t be more proud of her no matter how many times I say it. But if I said I haven’t been a puddle on the floor lately I’d be lying. I totally didn’t cry about it an hour ago, who am I kidding yes I did. I haven’t been avoiding emotions lately because they will remind me of the upcoming events, yep I’ve been doing that too. I am coping REALLY WELL OKAY.
While my pride beams every time I tell people about my brave and bold roomie, and her upcoming move, I also swallow the lump in my throat and smile as I explain her plans. Not because I am mad or sad or whatever emotion might seem fit at her for leaving, because that isn’t it. If for whatever reason she decided to stay, yes I would chug a Margarita in excitement, but then I would tell her she was an idiot and repack her car and lock her out of the house, because I know that this is the next big step in her life, I am confident that she was made for this, and that she will thrive. The point is I’m not sad because Rachel is moving away, I’m sad because until I met Rachel I didn’t understand that a friendship like ours could exist. I didn’t know I was lucky enough to experience what I have the last 12 months. (In all honesty I’m pretty certain someone threw us in a time machine because looking back I’m not sure how its already been a year. However if you asked our shower drain it would definitely confirm two curly haired girls have been living together for a year- sorry Mr. Quick.) I didn’t realize how incredible it could be to have a friend like Rachel, and to get to live with that friend. When I look back on this last year tears fill my eyes, out of happiness, because of how amazing this experience has been. We’ve both gone through the craziest year but somehow it all seemed manageable having a kick-a$$ roomie to battle through it with.
At this point I am rambling like I always do, but the point I’m trying to get at is how incredibly lucky/blessed/honored/thankful whatever you want to call it, or maybe all of those things, to be able to experience and treasure a friendship like ours. I could put the sappy parts in here, but come on I really don’t need to cry anymore. At the end of the day I am thankful for Rachel in so many ways, her kind personality, her calm presence, her reassuring attitude, her driven mindset, her unwavering confidence, and so many more things. To know Rachel is to be so very lucky, but to call Rachel a roomie is a gift.
So my dear Rach, as you pack your last boxes over the next few weeks, and say goodbye to this old little home we’ve shared, may you always remember that I hold my people close in my bubble. Even though your bedroom will no longer be two footsteps away, I will always be around. I know that throughout all of this I will be the one that needs checked up on, not you, because let’s be honest you’ll be exploring in Texas, and well I’ve always been the one that needs pep talks. But do remember, Google is not a doctor, and I won’t be there to dose you with cold medicine and rehydrate you, so make sure you stock up on your pharmaceuticals. And please buy a real alarm clock because you’re a big girl now and will have a big girl job and you can’t oversleep your alarm for that like you can a college class. Oh and don’t forget, you shouldn’t eat leftovers from the fridge after about a week, food poisoning is real!
And to those of you change-haters like me, may we learn to find the good in the change, as scary as it is, may we use it as a reminder that it means we are moving forward, and that is a sign of living. May we embrace instead of fear it, and welcome instead of run from. Cheers to change, but most importantly for the living that makes change possible.