Volleyballs or balloons

So I have officially moved. Well, all of my worldly possessions, at least. They are currently residing in the basement of my aunt and uncle's house in Portland, CT. The move went much smoother than anticipated -- we started at 1:30 and were on the road by 3:00. By the time we unloaded everything and grabbed food and what not, it was about 7:30 or so. The physical post-moving soreness has yet to sink in.

So right now I'm back in New York for the next couple of weeks, in a sort of quasi-limbo stage before I actually leave my job and the city. I'm staying on the floor at my old apartment until Wednesday, and then I'll be sofa-and-sleeping-bag-hopping in the apartments of some very generous friends from now until September 14th.

In many ways, I'm really glad that my move is gradual. If I'd have just packed up my old apartment and left, I would've been beside myself now. This way, I'm allowing me time to be left alone with my thoughts...memories of the past 4 years and pondering what the future holds. I keep wondering who I'll actually keep in touch with from the U.S. (and New York in particular) once I'm away. People definitely surprise you sometimes. You spend all this time talking about "friends forever," but it's amazing to me how quickly your companions fall out of touch once you branch out into a new realm. For instance, I only speak to one friend from high school and my contact with the majority of the UCONN peeps diminished quickly. For now, I am looking forward to a going-away gathering -- which I initially protested, but eventually caved on -- which is being thrown in my honor. But I guess only time will tell.

In general, relationships -- with friends, lovers, even family members -- are like a game of volleyball. One person is always the game server -- always being the first one to call or write -- and when a connection is made, you meet up one more time and then it's back to the let-me-catch-you game again. If it was up to the other person, the ball would easily have since fallen on the grass on their side of the net. And yet, you then wonder why you don't just let it do the same. Why should you expend all the effort in keeping it off the ground? If the other one doesn't care, why should you?

And occasionally -- actually very rarely -- you find relationships with people that turn out to be less like volleyballs and more like hot air balloons. Not like helium balloons, as those would just fly off, but hot air balloons -- which just sort of magically hover effortlessly.