You are my favorite song;
always on the tip of my tongue.
-The Civil Wars, Tip of My Tongue
-+-
-- "I didn't even do anything!"
"Christa. Don't act like you didn't play a hand in this. You did something."
-- "No, I mean-"
"No, I know what you mean. And I get that. You did something, but you also tried your best, and I respect that. But you can't just rid yourself of all responsibility like that."
-- "No-… I-… Sigh. Argh. I'm distraught!"
"Good. Just be distraught and get over it."
-- "...Okay."
-+-
By the by, if I'm not frequenting here, I've also started using my tumblr again (mostly for prose/fiction/creative writing), and sometimes also my twitter (random nonsensical useless stuff; primarily just used for when I have no one to text).
"This is Christa FOO. Gimme ur money this is a stick up. Thug lyfe playah yee."
-+-
"Just like high school all over again, eh?"
I wanted to nod my head, but honestly, that wasn't a sentence that I could connect with. I didn't go through any sort of anything in high school. I was in this safe little bubble all of high school, this cozy little nook of lonely warmth and comfortable prudency.
Not anymore.
About five or six months ago, I sat on the floor of the tissue culture room, distraught and in tears. Everything just seemed to be going so... wrong. Everything seemed to be so difficult and irreparable.
In some strange, inspirational twist of fate, everything afterwards fell perfectly back into place. I couldn't handle everything, so I just let go, and just braced myself for utmost disaster. Yet, without lifting a single finger on my part, everything somehow worked itself out.
Somehow, everything turned out okay.
However, oscillations have an echo. I am currently experiencing the residual waves of that first catastrophe, with some brand-new hurricanes thrown in, just for good measure. Luckily, they are weak. They are mere vibrations compared to my focus on academia and research. Not like before, when the tremors of the earth shook me down, and I cried into the sleeve of my laboratory coat.
So today, I suddenly realized something. I think... that this will turn out okay, too.
This time, I'm learning the hard way all over again that "turning out okay" isn't always in the form of warm reunion, in the restoration of amity, in the revival of unity. Sometimes, it's meaningless to have the pieces fall back together when the puzzle is incomplete and the table is crooked.
I'm learning the hard way that sometimes you just have to let yourself do nothing more than sit there, sip your coffee, and just quietly wonder about the strangers in your life.
And then you have to press on, because you know that everything is going to turn out okay.
Everything is going be A-OK.
(At least, until the next echo!)