I will formally begin leaving here, with this post.
First, my current position. I am sitting here in my underwear on a Saturday morning just about to head into September. My computer is surrounded by loose compact discs, sketch paper, letters, magazines and somewhere in here are three check books I began using, each as a replacement for the other as I could not find the previously started books among the pile. My room is in a similar state; the white $10-at-a-garage-sale leather couch is covered in a clothes blob that turns over like a lake (but with a fresher smell) about once a week as I use all the underwear within it. Creaky shorts hang stiff under a beach towel on the bathroom racks having dried some time ago. Around ten or so toilet paper rolls wait in front of the porcelain chair where I am often sitting, using the time to think about how I can creatively use said cardboard rolls, or rather, how I can excuse their being there.
This place is in such a state because I am leaving. I have lived in Abilene, Texas long enough. I have gotten lost in every corner of town. I have shopped every thrift store for years over, made myself a regular at at least four restaurants, attended perhaps every cultural event in this place. I have tried to no avail to make a habit of running the two-mile Lunsford Trail around ACU’s campus and its dirt-rut predecessor. I have attended three different churches ‘regularly’. I have made friends with unmeasurable quality. I have come back to Abilene more times than I can count because here I have lived the leap into my twenties.
I came back for the last time a couple weeks ago, and now I’ve got boxes stacked outside my door waiting to come in and carry everything out of here.
In a few weeks I’ll be going to Panama for some months, then hopefully India for some, and finally, with much providence and diligence, Peace Corps for two years next summer.
Should you be interested, you will hopefully be able to live some of this with me, read some of it with me at least.
We’ll start with packing.