Out of the woods.

Currently listening to Dashboard Confessional, Swiss Army Romance

It's a blustery, rainy, cold night in Chicago. I'm back in the city, this time for the last time - well, sort of, in the non-permanent sense. Anyway, it's the big haul. The last few weeks before the end of the semester. I have a senior thesis and a term paper to finish (okay, I haven't started the term paper, but I still have to finish it either way), a presentation to give and a lab report to turn in. And heaven knows it's all going to be done before I know it.

I can't help but be a bit reflective. It's been a rough-and-tumble semester. I waited so long for a beautiful fall, but was greeted so often by warm days; when I wanted snow, I got bitter, biting cold and now a driving rain. All things beautiful in their own right, but my raincoat doesn't keep me warm in the cold, and my winter coat doesn't keep me dry in the rain. I have found that my flannel only goes so far, and, having worn it so much, it is sadly wearing thin. Do I get a new one? do I wear this one 'til it dies? 'til it is so threadbare and sad that I simply can't bear to put it on anymore? And of course, the all-consuming question: how could any other one be the same?

There is a distinct gap wherein faith and fear fight for first. But I don't think one can completely dilute the one without having some consistency of the other.

I've learned a lot about myself this semester. I've learned what I am capable of, both good and bad. I've learned the things I should and shouldn't do - with my time, in my relationships, in academics. I've been offered opportunities and I've turned opportunities down. I've been bitter and I've been blessed. I would say that fall semesters in general are rough times for me, but I can remember rather enjoying my first fall semester, and that gives me hope that perhaps next year will be different. After all, it'll be my senior year, and I'll be taking pretty much whatever classes I want. But I have to wonder: coming back from a semester in Africa, and most probably another summer in the Sierras, what would make me come back to the city? I'm not sure it can ever be as good for me as it was - or that it ever was at all. I will see this through, but I will be so glad when it's over and I can go back to my rural areas and woods.