existing

Sometimes you do not realize how happy some things make you until you leave the routine. You leave in search for something better, because in a lot of ways it is. But the details, you miss.

Tonight, I am at home. Having been on campus all summer long, I haven't spent much time at home. Tonight, I fell asleep watching a movie, laying with my six-year old brother Ben on the couch, under my mom's handmade rag quilt. We ordered pizza for dinner, and ate caramel fudge ice cream with whip cream. I scooped the ice cream, Ben squirted the whip cream. I read him his bedtime story, and it wasn't just the usual chapter of the Boxcar Children or Magic Treehouse. I got to help teach my little brother how muscles work in a book about the human body. We flexed our biceps and triceps together. I went outside to get something from the car. I was distracted by the hammock. I layed on it for awhile. Wearing my black tanktop and my beach jailbait shorts, I just swung gently, feeling only the slight breeze across my legs. I could hear the rain, falling off the leaves of the trees, the kind of rain you can hear but can't really feel, because it is barely coming down. I could hear the crickets--sometimes you barely even notice the sounds of the crickets, because they are always there, but when you sit back and listen, you realize how loud they are, and how in sync they are with each other; it's almost like one loud heartbeat of cricket noises. All i could do is lie, with my eyes shut, half because of the summer exhaustion, and half because of the bright gleam of the porchlight. As I lied there, there was no strong emotion. It was existance. Existing in the summer atmosphere, the quiet of my house, and the place I had resided so many summer nights before. Only did i come inside to capture it here, although i didn't want to. I wanted to stay. Inside, the only sounds i hear are the hum of my mom's laptop and an occasional cat's purr. So many nights and days I spent here, itching to find something different. But you return, you return and you find that you've missed it. And it feels good.