Today was a very special day. I went to real school AND a real class. Whoa. Careful now. Next you'll hear I'll be globe trotting. Small steps at a time. Steady wins the race. You all know this.
I went to Spanish, which is such a fun class, and always has been. Once you hit grade 12, you are no longer 'required' to take a language, so the people in a language class really really want to be there, which is a nice change. I love speaking Spanish. I still can, which surprises me, although I get my 'you's' and 'me's' and 'they's' and stuff confused. I mix stuff up just like I do in English. We learned all about 'se', which is a handly little pronoun (I think that's what you call it), but it does a lot of work for us in Spanish.
I'm so happy to be back at school, in Uniform. It feels so normal. I don't feel as out of place, I don't stick out in a group of people I've known more than a third of my life. I love you guys! There is peace in familiar chaos.
I'm very tired though. I feel like I've been through the wringer washer the second time round, my heart is in my stomach somewhere, my stomach lost in my throat, my legs jelly (god knows where they ended up) and my brain squished too tightly against my skull. I've been reorientated. Reorganized. I feel my pulse all over, like my heart is a hammer and the blood nails driving into me all over.
I worry sometimes, that the feelings won't go away; that the pain will endure, that it will have learned a lesson about patience and endurance from its victim. I worry it will fight as hard as I fight it. A fraction of the will, even then I'd worry. But I know all things pass. I've read this in books. I've heard it said. They say that life will change and endure. I hear time heals all wounds. I know this is true, or partly, but time heals all wounds, except the tracks it makes itself through a life.