I am the luckiest

A lot of life-changing things have happened to me in the past year and I can't pretend to even be able to understand most of them, much less write a comprehensive blog about them. In addition, I've got only 5 hours and 10 minutes until I need to call a cab to take me to the Kingston airport, then only another two hours after that until I finally get to see Steve again. To kiss him again, and smell his freshly-shaved cheeks, and feel his hands on my back, and look into the eyes that I find myself missing. I wouldn't say that I have expectations for this trip - it's not fair to hold a relationship up to some sort of internal standard. That being said, I feel like little things are changing every day - if I was talking with Steve about it, we'd probably agree that we're breaking down walls. Even though it's only been two weeks since we last saw eachother, things have become more intense - have gotten better, easier, more honest, more comfortable. I'm imagining that the way that I kiss him tomorrow is going to be able to convey just how strong my feelings for him are; I'm hoping that this will be enough. I simply don't have the right words to describe what is happening to me (and I am, arguably, a talker. This kind of stuff is usually no sweat for me).

But I digress. I was talking about how I don't have time to write about my life changing year - I need to be up in 4 hours, and I still want to pack, make a couple of lists and get a good two hours of sleep in.

So I'll just say this: being a part of Walkhome has actually changed my life. My partner tonight, Paul, remarked that he was thrilled to be walking with a bonafide campus celebrity -- but his comment had an unintended effect. It made me sad. For a long time, most of the people who were closest to me called me "Head Gael Bri Johnson", which was great, in a way. But at the same time, I was always in that role to them -- Head Gael always came before Bri Johnson and I felt as though to a certain extent, the nature of my position coloured other people's impressions of me. After Frosh Week I hit the wall. I had no idea who in my life would still love me without the "Head Gael" in front of my name; who actually knew who I was at all, if I wasn't running orientation. It wasn't that I craved the popularity of the job. Quite the opposite -- sometimes it was the loneliest place to be, because people think they know you but never take the time to actually figure out who you are.

My point is that for the first time in a long time, Walkhome has been a place where to most people I'm just known as Bri. And what I'm coming to find is that the strength of the relationships I'm forming there actually astound me to consider. I belong somewhere, and it's only on the basis of who I am as a person -- not on the shoes that I'm filling. It's such a relief to know that I am a likeable person without having to BE anything to anyone. I can just be me. I'm falling in love with walkhome -- with the atmosphere and the jokes, and the love letters that I can leave for people on their sign-in pages, and with the singing (when Dan brings in his guitar), and with the running/jumping hugs when we see eachother on campus. With the support. With the life-changing conversations that I've been lucky enough to have with people, as we wander the streets of the ghetto at 3 in the morning, pondering the biggest issues that we can get our heads around. I've fallen in love with the feeling of being accepted. With finding people out there that are just like me (a quality that I can't really articulate). With an entire kiosk of people singing "Livin' on a Prayer" tonight, without so much as an indication that we were going to break into song. I've fallen in love with the patrons (I meet so many interesting people) and with their stories.

In short, this is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Part of what I'm so scared about, when I think about leaving kingston, is that I also have to leave behind a group of people (the FIRST group of people) who truly love me for who I am. I'm so scared of being lonely next year - so scared of not finding a place in this world where I belong.

But I don't want to dwell on it - my insecurities about next year are bad enough to warrant a blog of their own. How could this be the happiest and saddest time of my life at once? I feel like every emotion in my being has been heightened, as though I'm sensitive to the smallest shifts and changes in balance. All I know right now is that the best part about working for Walkhome, the one person who is so far above and beyond anything I could have ever hoped to find, will be waiting for me in Toronto in 7 hours.

For that one person, I am luckier than I ever deserved to be.