Just two weeks more

My heart stands in a state of denial. I cannot believe that in a matter of two mere weeks I will no longer be living here with all of my dear friends--the refugees--people who have become my family over the course of the past few months. Whenever the subject of my departure arises in a conversation I send forth the plea that we do not discuss it for it is too painful for my little soul to ruminate upon at this moment. I simply want to enjoy the next few weeks without the bitter tinge of the reality that awaits me on August 15^th when I will drive my car out over the bothersome apartment speed bumps for the last time.

Last night I took a group of boys to play put-put golf. Thirty-six holes later we had catalogued countless laughs, a few frustrated squeals and a constant banter of jokes. I couldn’t wipe the smile the grin off my face as we drove home with the warm summer wind streaming through the open skylight and windows, with the radio on and unabashedly loud slurping noises coming from the seats around me as we all struggled to consume our melting ice cream cones before they succumbed to the fatal power of the heat. My four friends piled out of the car tangled amidst their ice cream and a profuse outpouring of thanks. As I slipped my key in the lock and they walked away into the darkness, I saw them turn around as one of them yelled, “Thank you so so much, Jenna! You are just the best friend we could have!” The others chorused their agreement and then they continued to disappear into the humid night. My heart was so touched and tears still spring to my eyes at the recollection. This summer has taught me so many beautiful things that I don’t think I have yet fully been able to process in my mind, much less possess the ability to compose in narrative form. Regardless, I know that I will view life differently from here on. These people have revealed to me a beauty of living that I hope to forever remember and carry within my soul. 

--Jenna