It has been quite some time since I've updated. I really just haven't been in the mood to, I suppose. Not sure what to say. I'm still not sure, but for some reason I felt the need to write today.

This weekend I drove up to Maine to spend time with J.Shea. It was a great time. And I loved the drive. The foliage was at it's peak and the weather was perfect.

I stopped by home for a few hours on the way back. And as I drove through the roads in Georgetown, I realized just how much I love that area. It feels like home in a way that nothing ever has. I have never felt attached to any place in this world, but I've lived in Georgetown longer than I have ever lived anywhere else, and it's the first place where I feel like I am coming home every time I go back. Every place around it holds so many memories. Physical proof that I changed a lot during my time there.

As I was driving through some magnificent foliage on the way back to Connecticut, I thought about how trees are a lot like humans. We start from something very small, and grow to be large. We need particular conditions and sometimes must be planted in certain places in order to grow well. And we surround ourselves with people that need the same soil and climate, even if they are a different kind of tree. Inside, trees have rings that show how old they are, and what they have survived through--forest fires, ice ages, etc. We have those too, in a way. And sometimes those scars are on the surface. Maybe we were almost cut down, or had passionate love carved into our bark.

And most of the time, we both know when it is time to change. A chill in the air, the migration of geese and butterflies--something within us tells us to change. And we display a palette of brilliant colors, and those around us do the same. And then we let go of the things that we need to let go of. They fall to the ground; to our base. They feed our roots that lie deep beneath the surface, becoming a part of them.

But then we grow new things, that are young and hopeful and green.

I've been in a very strange place since the day I came back to school. I don't know what it is, but I think I am on the verge of changing colors. I've felt...dull. I don't know how else to describe that.

The other week I realized that I have almost no friends at school. And I'm talking, friends that I could be like "let's go grab a cup of coffee" without it being awkward. I have plenty of people that I get along with in classes, that I say 'hi' to when I see them around, but not many friends. The girls I live with are the people I would hang out with, even if we didn't live together. Other people like that in my life have faded, and that's no one's fault in particular. It's just the result of a lack of effort on both parts.

Anyway, realizing that depressed the hell out of me for a bit. I feel a little better about it all now, I mean, I'm graduating in the spring and next semester I will be student teaching, so I won't be around much.

But, I guess that I just long to have people around me that are...the same kind of tree, if you will. Because similar trees can still be markedly different inside and outside. They have different stories, but at the core, their hearts are similar.

I've pegged myself as an observer. I like to observe other people, and think and write about them, and who they might be, what their stories are, and so much more. But...as much as I like to be an observer, I also want to be a part of something. Something to be observed.

I've been writing a lot more lately. Just private files, random paragraphs and sentences about random people. I think it's good for me. The more I grow, the more I fall in love with writing and wish that I was better at it. I think I'd like to take some courses, maybe Saturday term or something, when I have a real teaching job.

So, I'm in a weird place right now. I don't know how to explain it, really, other than I think that I am getting ready to change colors.