I’d tell you that I love the City, but I really miss Highway 1, backroads, the ocean, singing in the car, rolling hills, and blue skies.
I’d tell you that I while the streets may feel safe, someone died on the corner of Chicago Ave. and Wells St. (one corner of MBI) this week, and that reality puts both fear and grief in my bones.
I’d tell you that dorms are fun and refreshing, but I miss houses (and families) more than I ever expected to.
I’d tell you that I love my theology and Bible classes, but I am still undecided on my major and my perpetual indecisiveness frustrates me.
I’d tell you that I only feel like a fraction of my self. The only thing filling my journal is questions that lead to more questions, just beneath the nervousness in my stomach there’s deep longings and wounds, just behind my walls there’s insecurity and pride.
I’d tell you that the dining hall food choices are limited, but I also feel physically healthier than ever. Praise God.
I’d tell you that life is not all beauty and sweetness and charm, like I’ve portrayed thus far. It’s also hard, cold, confusing, and bitter, at times. Sometimes, all at the same time.
So here’s to being a little bit honest, if there is such a thing.