Three of us laugh together in one college house garage. We talk, smile, and make fun of each other. We remember stories from years before and talk about the future like anything can happen. We're 22, 21, and 20 and have our whole lives ahead of us...
Two of us have the same nose.
Two of us have the same freckle patches on our shoulders.
Two of us are louder than life.
The three of us have plenty of the "Lonergan" genes.
Two of us hated each other for the first half of our lives.
Two of us are best friends, and always will be.
One of us has a lazy eye lid.
One of us has a seal laugh.
The three of us will always laugh when we hear the word "crusty".
And the three of us are extremely blessed.
The rest of the world doesn't matter. Money. Fame. Greed. Lust. Liars. Cheaters. It means nothing.
When a girl has cousins like Matthew and Joseph, and a family like...well, mine, why would it?
"You're smart as crap, you're freakin' gorgeous, and one day you're going to find a guy and say, 'Wow. This is what it's supposed to be like.'...I don't worry about you at all, Lyd..."
This picture, along with my friends and family, has gotten me through the past few weeks.
Rough doesn’t even begin to describe it.
Three of my great friends (including my cousin, Joseph) drove 20 hours, round trip, to spend 30 hours with me.
Are they insane? Of course.
Are they amazing? Yes. Without a single doubt.
Their trip meant more to me than they will ever know. Having them here with me, having a piece of home in solid, human form was just what I needed to lift my spirits. Having people to talk to, in person, who know my past--who know me--was perfect.
I’ve been trying to deal with a lot of stuff mostly on my own, and I’m not ashamed to say that I just can’t handle it anymore.
It seems that certain things that I thought I had conquered in Budapest, and so hoped and prayed that they would stay that way, have come back to bite me in the butt…or leg…or arm…or foot…you choose.
But that’s ok. Because I’m ok.
Seeing this picture, remembering how incredibly happy I was: it gives me hope.
Budapest was thousands of miles away from home. It was flooded with fantastic people who became a part of my family. It was dripping with beautiful, wonderful mathematics. It was overflowing with optimism and thoughts of what my future might be. I’m realizing that traveling those thousands of miles back home shouldn’t change all of those things.
Because I’m Lydia. And that means something.
I still have fantastic people in my life. In fact, not only do I have my family and friends from before Budapest, but now I have people spread throughout the country; people who I will love for the rest of my life.
My life is still dripping with beautiful, wonderful mathematics.
And my heart wants, so badly, to be overflowing with optimism and thoughts of my future.
Self-pity is not attractive, and neither is being depressed all the time: at least it doesn’t look good (or feel good) on me.
So I’ve been praying for peace. I’ve been running longer and harder. I’ve been talking to friends and family. I’ve been dancing alone in my room and with friends on tables. And I’m becoming happy again…day by day.
Hey, you know, some things just take time. Time for wounds to heal; time for forgiving yourself to sink in; time for life to make sense; and time for you to realize just how incredibly lucky you are to take a breath every morning.
And no one ever said that there had to be a time limit…
"How many nights are you staying, Lydia?" Asked a curious Michael underneath his Power Ranger sheets. "Three. Is that okay with you?" "No. I want you to stay 100 nights!"
There is absolutely nothing better than being surrounded by family. Nothing. Tell me something better and I'll tell you about how I spent twenty minutes having a conversation with my 2 year old cousin saying only,
Tell me something better and I'll tell you how I got two hugs goodbye from my 11 year old cousin who was in some type of grumpy mood the whole weekend, but I could tell he was going to miss having me around. Tell me something better and I'll just shake my head and know that nothing is better than dancing around a room to Hey, Soul Sister with people you haven't seen for months, but because you're family, time means nothing.
My family is my backbone. They mean more to me than anything else in the world. It puts a smile on my face when I get a text message that says, "I'm going to St. Mary's for college...I've just decided," even if I know deep down that he still has so many more options to look at. It makes my tummy warm to get a giant hug from a cousin that I haven't seen in months. It makes me feel special to have cousins throw me a party at their house, and not even think twice about it. Or how about the feeling you get when you are thousands of miles away from home and you get a message saying how much they miss you? Does it get much better than that?
And the best part of all of it: nothing will ever change it.
