It looks like I'm putting together a trip to Florida in August, because evidently I feel a need to go to the hottest places possible at the hottest possible time. Next stop: the surface of the sun. I'm going to visit the grandmas, which makes me feel vaguely panicked.
I hate the feeling that everything I thought was solid is drifting and dissolving, that no new continents are rising anywhere. That someday soon I'm going to run out of rocks. What I need is a hug, two deep breaths, and a little bit of luck.
While I'm there I'll hopefully get to see Amanda and Jimmie and Nick, and we'll all talk too fast about high school and giggle like sixteen year olds and participate in shenanigans. I never feel too small for my skin around any of them, and between that and the Sarah and Jesse visit in two (!) weeks, it's almost like there are life rafts in sight. And I don't find myself dreading a trip back out there the way I usually do, as though I'm learning to forgive the place for everything that happened there. Not that I'll ever move back to the Clearwizzle or call it home, but someday I might not hate it.
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