an open space

october 29

There are so many things I miss about Cambodia. The way that I lived. The simplicity of it. Healthwise, mostly. Sleep, food, my circadium rhythm. Life felt more.... balanced.

At college, I sleep at odd times, sometimes not til’ early morning hours, or in the middle of the day. I grab food at sporadic hours. I eat in the middle of the night. I finish conversations on the phone well past midnight with people I couldn’t else find the time to see. I do homework with a headlamp on the floor hours after my roommate’s been in bed. And life just feels messy.



Everyday I seem to go in the direction of being just a bit more jaded. But today, a child ran by on the lawn, chasing a ball. And my arms literally ached. Chard pressing his head against my stomach, waiting for my usual goodnight kiss. I remember feeling sick one day at school during break, laying down on the bench in the back of the classroom, Sotha climbing on top of me, sprawling down on my chest, cheeks pressed down on my lips, turning cheeks over and over so I could kiss him continually on each side. When Heather used to sub reading class for me, when I taught the 8th grade, I’d come back in the room just before break, and they’d run to the back of the room and dogpile me to the floor with hugs and kisses, just because I hadn’t seen them in that hour. She used to ask me to wait outside the room til’ she was finished dismissing them. Nobody does that to me anymore. Nobody needs me. Nobody relies on my affections. It’s fine. But I miss it. I miss them. A lot.

At school, I feel measured by grades. How many friends I have. If a guy seems interested or not in dating me. Job interviews. Art critiques. Invitations. It's exhausting. Finding my worth in this.

I'm exhausted. This is all wrong.