Listening to: The Decemberists
Avoiding:(more relieving) the longing my heart feels.
sometimes, nostalgia hits you hard.
I miss some people terribly. You know, those people that have some of the simplest interactions with you, yet, the greatest impacts EVER. As soon as you realize how fantastic they are you fear losing them, in some way, shape, or form. It's a strange thing - because then it becomes real.
In 8th and 9th grade, I had the most fantastic English teacher. Really, she has been one of the most influential women in my life to date. She was like a second mom to me, you know, one of those teachers that really cared. I could write about anything in her class and not have to fear her judgment. I felt safe in that room, and I could dream big, there were no limitations. Everything this woman is, I would love to be. She inspires.
Her husband got a job transfer, and they had to move to Washington. We've kept in touch, but I can't even articulate what she means to me. The fact that she would just let me call her up when ever I needed to discuss a paper, or just needed someone to talk to. She let me rant about boys to her when they were being dumb, gave me amazing advice for taking on the world, and has really been there every step of the way. Reading back on emails pain me - but it's not a bad pain, it's a good pain. They remind me of exactly how much I am loved, in fact I am very deeply loved, and I should never doubt it. I only wish I could repay her for what she has taught me. However, it seems the teacher's greatest pleasure is seeing their pupil partake in the lessons before them.
I want to do something for her. Something special, right now this nostalgia is crushing.
So thank you, Mrs. Clarke, for the simple act of believing.
It's gotten me far.
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