Land of the Midnight Sun

January 14, 2006
I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. All the time I was in Alaska, all the time I was in Provo, all the time I was in Boise, all you would ever hear me say was: "I can’t wait til January when I get to go back to Rexburg!" ... Here I am. And what am I talking about? Alaska. Sometimes Provo. I know that it’s my choice where to go to school and I really really like it here- it’s just that I itch and yearn for that spontaneity of the midnight sun. Sure I have a lot of fun here- but it’s all so planned- laid out for you.
"It’ll be funny for you to be in a beauty pageant- here’s your calender."
"Come to this party- here’s the flyer."
"There’s a concert tonight- but you had to buy tickets in advance."
Whatever happened to the last minute trains and helicopters? Climbing roofs and riding bikes down a long dock to suddenly find yourself engulfed by mountains and the ocean? Where’s the glory of a ginger ale and green apple dinner? The forts? The Fish Company? The river? His truck? It’s all so far gone and I find myself... well... sad.
The one person I’ve kept in touch with has a girlfriend so heaven knows he doesn’t keep in touch with me. I’ll call and reminisce a little. Usually it’s a little awkward. Will I ever have what I had in Alaska again? Was I so naive to think that once I left I had to "grow up"? So much that I made the lame attempt to do so? And by doing that- did I ruin the one thing I didn’t recognize I loved the most? It’s just so... I want to say frustrating but it’s more than that. I honestly fell like no one understands. I’ll talk about how I miss Alaska but it sounds so good that no one has sympathy for the fact that I ache. At least you had that experience, they say. But it’s almost like a girl who’s never had a boyfriend saying that to a girl who just got out of a relationship. They really don’t understand. I want to build forts again. I want to eat lots of chocolate and sit in a hot tub on the hanger. But more than anything I want that friend back who I did it all with. He was my best friend there and I messed it all up by running head first into what I thought would be a more "meaningful relationship." And now look at me. I’m drowning. I’m drowning in schedules and organization and calories and planned-fun-friend time. I can’t do this. I need something unexpected. Something (it doesn’t have to be someone) to sweep me off my feet and give me that feeling of when I climbed the roof of my work and kissed a boy and stuck it to the man. That feeling of midnight bike rides by myself. Laying in the middle of my living room floor listening to the same CD over and over until every song applied to me. Standing in the cold next to a drunk town. Connecting emotionally to each person because we’re looking up at the same northern lights that came and went as they pleased. That’s what I need. I need northern lights dang it! In any form- I’m not picky. But I need them now. Before I let myself die in the books.