Regression

Here I am once again, awake. Dreadfully awake. At yet another ungodly hour of the, well, morning. Sleep is something that hasn't come easy of late. My mind starts processing and it's over, I'm awake. Fully cognitive without a chance of intermission. So I ramble. I ramble incoherently about my state of being. Pondering my uncanny ability to look like a somewhat portly turtle when I move my neck just right- which I tend to in videos and pictures. Then laughing at how absurdly hyper critical I am being. Listening to dogs barking in the distance outside. Hearing the wind slithering gently across the leaves, creating a natural white noise. The summer air is crisp and quiet at night. My cat is laying on my back with his paws stretched gracefully over my shoulder blades and his face pressed into my hair and neck. Sighing cat sighs. Summer music.

In consideration of my surroundings I should be content. I try to steady my breathing. Inhale, 1, 2, 3. Exhale, 1, 2, 3. The air whistles in broken rhythm. The pressure of laying on my ribs on this stone hard mattress is evident. My mind wanders, and I do my best to maintain focus. I consider the future. I consider Evergreen. I anticipate the future; going home. After some amount of time and a fair amount of hostile and melancholy words being strung together, I am at peace with my past. For the most part. I fell in love, I fell out of love, I fell out of love with love. I became miserable. I became confused. I became angry. I reached a peaceful resolution. I spent a considerable amount of time considering the possibility of considering love. I considered love. I fell in love with love. I rambled. Without coffee it is more than likely I would be in a coma.

I have 17 days before I start living at Evergreen. In that time, I fully intend to spend at least one whole week regressing entirely. I am going to colour in colouring books with crayons. I am going to watch VHS tapes of The Fox and the Hound, Homeward Bound, The Aristocats, Milo and Otis, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, The Lion King, My Dog Skip, and Aladdin. I am going to make my bed into a sheet tent fort. I am going to eat PB&J sandwiches. I am going to wake up early on Saturday morning to watch cartoons, possibly online because they don't show the good stuff on Nickelodeon anymore. I am going to make mudpies and sit in them. I'm going to draw cats, lots of cats. I am going to play outside all day long, until it gets dark, building forts, riding bikes up and down the driveway, drawing on the driveway with chalk, climbing trees, and possibly swimming in a blue plastic pool intended for ducks- after washing it with a fair amount of bleach. I am going to beg my mom to buy Mr. Bubble bubblebath (despite risk of UTI) and sit in a bathtub overflowing with bubbles, while playing with plastic animals and pretending my torso is an island and my belly button is a pond. I am going to make a slip n' slide out of a tarp on the biggest hill in my yard and I am going to slide down it until every extremity is bruised.

I also fully intend to read my favourite books from my childhood. Island of the Blue Dolphins, The Secret Garden, Misty of Chincoteague, Black Beauty, Bridge to Terebithia, The Hobbit, Ernest Hemingway's Short Stories, and various others. This will require staying up under the covers with them propped around my head with pillows as I read with a flashlight. Seeing as I am so suddenly growing up and going to enter the "real world", I feel I should remember simpler times. A time when I didn't have to worry about financial aid and coffee. When the most essential and vital part of my existence was deciding which tree to climb first. When sleeping in my parents bed trumped going to parties, and playing with legos was a far more serious activity than standardised tests. When I had cat wallpaper, and posters that had pictures of puppies that said things like "Puppy love" and "Snuggle puppy", and unicorn sheets, and I was darned proud as I sat admiring them in my pastel pink room. I am going to regress for the sake of progress.