Transience..

Here I am, back to where I started. A temporary resident of a seasonal town. Sipping a latte out of a white cardboard cup, thankful for the familiarity that comes with the green mermaid and the brown sleeve on which she resides. I swore this place off for most of my summer, and then realized something.
I was surrounded by people telling me that the local coffee shop was better. Less expensive, better service, better tasting drinks, and plus who doesn't like supporting the local economy? Then I realized something. I don't like their coffee. The people there are hurried, busy, and sometimes rude. The coffee is watered down, bitter, and damn near as expensive as the ever present Mermaid cafe. I was telling myself I liked it better at the local place because I was so used to being told by everyone around me that it was better.
I feel like I've been tricked. But what's scary about it is that I've been tricked by my own mind. What else have I been doing for the pleasure and purpose of others? Don't get me wrong here - this has nothing to do with selflessness or helping others, both of which are extremely important to me. Those days in the cafeteria that I decide to get the nasty, browning salad instead of a piece of cheesecake to go with my rice and potatoes. Why? Will I maybe gain 10 pounds? Probably. That's a bad thing though. Skinny is good. If we can't see the bones of your wrists and hips then you've got some work to do on yourself. Why?
I've gained about 10 pounds since I've been here. It's been pointed out to me more than once, and I'm sure when I leave and go back to school there will be people who point it out. Let me say very clearly right now - I do not care. I am OK with not being 115 pounds for my whole life. I don't see why that, or for that matter the type of coffee I drink - should be of importance to anyone but myself. Well, me and my doctor when she hears how much coffee I've been drinking, but that's another story.
As you may perhaps be able to tell, I've got a lot on my mind at the moment. I'm in a very weird place, physically and mentally. Physically, because I'm in this weird early 1900's town with no cars, no television, limited internet access and few Americans. That part, I'm cool with. Mentally, I'm lost. I've spent this whole summer making great friendships and creating relationships and bonds with the people around me, and now I'm sitting here...7 days until I leave, and it's hard not to wonder what the point of it all was.
I know that this is all a part of growing up. I understand that. You get jobs, you meet people, you leave and then never see them again. Maybe the people don't stay in your life, you just have to take with you the lessons that they teach you. But what is the lesson? That you will meet people, learn to care about them and then one day say goodbye and never spare them another thought again? So what about everything you've gone through? Everything done, said, and all the time spent. What is to show for it? Memories. That's not enough. I want more.
I'm a stability person. I'm ok with moving around, what I'm not ok with is being written off before I'm gone. My struggle is coming from the friends I thought I made, that have already disappeared before I've even left. I understand, we're all scared. Don't get too close, don't learn too much, don't let them know how much they meant because you may never see them or think about them again, so why bother with the effort. That's what they tell you. That's what's expected. Oh, she's leaving? She's probably already got her foot out the door, why bother with time spent.

What's gone has passed. I may never see many of these people again. Maybe I'll return to work here in two years. Will any of the same people be here? Sure, maybe one or two. But two years later? It'll be like starting new. So here's my question: Why bother. None of this will ever come back. In a week, which will pass much quicker than I'm ready for it to, these people, this place, and these events will be left to my memories and to the ages. Maybe twenty years from now I'll read back on this blog and remember the people, and maybe I'll look back and really think I worked with a Jeff, Sandra, and Rhonda. Who's to say?

Time is ticking, the sand is running out. I'll simply do my best to spend the last of my time here with the people worth remembering. The ones whose names I want to remember.