sitting, waiting, wishing


There's just something about an airpot that sends my creative juices into a hyperactive tizzy.  I'm not quite sure what it is, because Madi asked this morning and I couldn't explain why... ironic?  I suppose it has to do with one intensely emotional summer a few years back, and the fact that while my whole life seemed to turn on its head (though not in a terrible way like this sounds), I was flying to Florida from Arizona then to Virginia then back to Florida then back to Arizona... whew.  You get the idea!  It was an extremely stressful/tiring/exciting/amazing/never-ending/memorable two weeks, and I can't say I'd change a single moment of it.  
BUT my point is... (I'm rambling guys, sorry... I've got two more hours of waiting in this airport and no internet connection that lets me play Netflix...so I have to occupy myself somehow eh?).. I spent a lot of time in airports and on airplanes.
And I wrote.
And I actually wrote some of the greatest pieces I ever have, which is cool.  And so ever since then, it's just felt right to write when I'm on a plane.  I'm always writing in my head but don't always take the time to sit and write what I'm thinking on paper, and so being forced to sit and really do nothing is very conducive to notebook filling.  
And also, you never know who you're going to meet at an airport! Read: very hunky, sweet KU guy who wears beanies, takes pictures, likes kids and listens to City and Colour.  Speaking of which!  Guess who's going to his concert TONIGHT? That's right, this girl.  Yepp.  Reunited with my best friend and witnessing Dallas Green's musical genius talents all in one day... think I'll survive?
Which brings up another topic: going home.  Everyone I know at school is so excited to be going home, or live close to home so don't give two craps about it.  I, for one, have some reservations.  This whole life just feels very surreal to me, like a soap bubble that will pop when I try to come back.  It's weird because it feels totally normal, because really, it is.  But every time I came to KU to visit, it was this incredible experience and I was so excited and hopeful and I could just picture my life here and it was so extraordinary.  
But that's exactly what it is: extra ordinary.  And I guess I didn't count on that.
Which isn't to say I'm not completely in love with it and am so thankful and blessed.  I feel like this just nosedived into a confession hour or something! Ha. I love it in Lawrence and everybody I've met feels like family.  It's hard for me to picture what my life was like without them, which makes my heart happy. 
 I think what I'm trying to say is, I need something that makes me feel like my life has a purpose.  Like I'm striving for something, like I'm making a difference in something, somehow.
And I know I'm gonna find it.  The big man upstairs has a plan, after all.

So here's to sitting, waiting, and wishing.  Both in this airport and in this crazy thing called life. 

Thanks for dropping by and reading my word vomit,
xxoo

P.S. I'd be totally okay with meeting a scruffy firefighter too.  Or a clean-cut baseball player.  Or just your average guy who can make me laugh.  You know. Typical airport peeps.
P.P.S. This is really long. And pointless.  Sorry not sorry.

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