"Learning to Love Again" has been that song.
Leave it to Mat Kearney to write something so beautiful. I still have his first album "Nothing Left to Lose" dubbed on a cassette so I can listen to it on my all-but-advanced tape deck in my purple car. On trips between college and home or home and college, I'll push it in, hear the clicks and whirrs until it starts playing and sing along to every single word. It's almost second nature now, like blinking or breathing. I don't really think about what song is next, I just know. I just feel it.
I've probably said it before, but it's been awhile since I've heard new music that really moves me. Something I can really dig into and get invested in. Something that takes me awhile to ruminate over and really get me thinking.
I haven't done much of that lately.
At least really thinking. The funny thing about college is that you're supposed to be learning...expanding your knowledge base...broadening your horizons. Mostly, it's been a lot of busy work. That's not to say that I haven't enjoyed it. That's not to say that I haven't had some amazing classes where I DID have to think. But, overall, it was just a lot of work. And now I have a lot of notebooks full of chicken scratch and a few tests to show for it.
Maybe it was just because I didn't really know how to approach college. I did the work, I got the grades. I should have put a little bit more effort into connecting the dots. What does it all mean? Why is it significant? How is it relevant to my life? I'm getting better at it, I think. Though satire in Spain's Golden Age is still pretty lost on me. (If there are any experts out there, please feel free to share your wisdom with me!)
I've been trying to deal with some drama these past few days that I haven't had to deal with in a long, long, long time. I can tell you why I specifically chose to distance myself from certain groups of people and why, for the most part, my life doesn't contain near the amount of college drama that most kids' my age do. But sometimes, I suppose, it can't be avoided. I just don't understand how people in their twenties can't just act in a civilized, respectable manner. I can honestly say that I haven't been treated the way I was since about third grade, or middle school at the very latest. I was shocked and appalled and didn't really know how to respond.
The point of the matter is this, and it's something that I've been thinking on for a good, long while: I'm proud of who I am and the choices I've made. I try to avoid doing harm to others and, in fact, want to help people. I'm proud of the music I like, the people I associate with, the path I've chosen in my life. I don't waste away my nights drinking myself into oblivion. I read a book and cuddle with my kitten and my fiance. I'm obsessed with HGTV. I want to return to Spain as soon as possible. I love my family. I work my ass off day in and day out. All these things make up the fiber of my being, and when I'm put-down and disrespected, it really hurts me.
Then, I think, if I'm happy with myself and proud of my accomplishments, why should I care at all? And the truth is, I shouldn't. And I'm working on it. I'm working on letting it slide right out of my consciousness like rain droplets on an umbrella.
In the end, my message is just one of love, and that's what it has been all along.
