I’ve never wanted anything more than I want to go to Rwanda this summer.

That statement reeks of a vulnerability uncomftorable and foreign to me; but it’s what I’ve let myself feel. I like to keep a comftorable distance from the things I desire—telling myself that I didn’t want to go to Oberlin anyways, or work there or be friends with that person—but I want this so bad, even with the very real understanding that the chance is slim and that all the other wonderful people applying want to go badly, too. In some way, I feel this is somehow indicative of this week and the things I’ve been learning this semester. This week has been as raw and humbling and messy as it possibly could be, and I’ve been slammed in the face with the knowledge of my own crippling insecurities and selfishness.

Julia and I talked about this a bit; about how college is a time of such change and ranging emotional topography that you either have to choose to battle it or embrace it. The realization that this whole time may be raw, and that I’ll never get to that point, climb that peak of great equilibrium and constancy, is frightening. But somehow freeing, too. Elisabeth wrote me an email the other day, which I found to be incredibly wise and reassuring: “college is such a full time. once you’re done with it, of course, like because twice as “hard” and complicated, but still nothing i’ve found comes close to the intensity of those days. if you are lonely, it is lonely, if you are on top of the world, it could never be beaten, if you are struggling, you feel it like never before. at least that’s what i found— i just felt things there.”

I like the word full. I think it says a lot.

Happy Birthday; Emily, Megan, Grace! you women bring more joy into this world than you will ever be aware of, and I’m blessed to have you in my life.

This week: Beach House, Mumford and Sons, Yeasayer, Rogue Wave, Langhorne Slim, Patty Griffin, Grizzly Bear, Brandi Carlile.