I spent a month (Oct. 20 through Nov. 20) falling in love with a girl who lived 1,300 miles away from me. It was easily the best month of my life thus far. Now it’s been a month without her. It’s been strange. It not like I think about her everyday. No. That would be easy. I find myself thinking she would make each destination in my daily life so much better–so much fuller. Some days are easier than other–but some days are downright lonely without her.
I’m moving forward in going to the Peace Corps. Which means another 800 days without her. The idea frightens me. I know I asked for this by letting myself fall in love with her so soon before leaving the country. The thing is, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Period. The time apart will be impossible. It’ll teach us much about ourselves and each other. It may rip us apart. But it may make us stronger. I do not know the future. All I know is that, right now, I see no other option. The Peace Corps is where my life has been pointed for years. With it finally on my doorstep, how do I walk away? What kind of life will be waiting for me if I do?
The internal conflict burns inside of me as–each day–I read over more forms and learn Arabic. It’s like I’m living two lives at this point. At some point, one of those lives will have to fall into a hibernation–hoping to be reawoken in the near-future. At this point, I expect that to be the life with her. I do not like that. I hate that that is going to be my decision. I try every day to re-imagine what life would be like if I stayed in the states….but it’s getting harder and harder to see it.
This blog is going to transform in the days, weeks, and months ahead. As I make the transition to living overseas, it will remain my writing blog. But it will also take on the aspects of a Peace Corps Journal. Although I am not legally allowed to share my specific whereabouts or doings, I will be able to share my personal thoughts and writings. That will not change.
I have much from my teenager years that I still want to upload before I leave. I think I need to up it to three per update. Here’s today’s batch of poems from nine years ago:
Richard T. Reilly 