itchy.

the last four years have been building up to these recent months of boiling unsettlement. it seems like every day has just added onto the next, causing layers and layers of a skin i no longer recognize. with the people i have met, the things i have done or discovered...each component feels like a new pair of jeans: almost right, but still something making it completely wrong. i don't know the person i have become because i'm in the middle of becoming. i'm waiting to shed my skin, and the skin can't be shed here. i've spent these years searching; searching for a piece of who i am to become, of who the person is that i will settle into...but i'm left searching. everyday that i find myself still trying is a day i get closer to no longer putting forth the effort. this has been four years of searching for a connection, for a connection of some kind that would allow myself to be. to be whole. even for a moment. recently an individual tapped into the part of me that i've had hidden since i left north carolina, tapped into a part of me that i forgot was there....the part the craves a connection on a whole level, not one that just satisifies a certain component or fits into an ideal that i thought was my future. what he tapped into awoke a person that was excited again, excited to explore and create. discover. the person that over four years has slowly covered herself day after day by creating who she thinks she should be, not who she knows she could be.

i'm tired of reaching out, of seeking, of searching here. i'm seeking a closeness in any form. a closeness that allows me to be me. a closeness that i've only found in a few....a familarity that has mostly come before my move back north, and has only appeared fleetingly here. i feel myself giving up on what i've known these past years. the people i see no longer evoke in me what i seek to be brought out. i'm not challenged. i no longer recognize the person that i once knew so well...at least not in the company of others. even what i choose to put in my mouth no longer tastes pleasant. the clothes i wear no longer feel familiar. the voice i hear is no longer mine.

i feel the me waiting to emerge inside. but i also feel that same part of me hiding until i change something. something big. there seems to no longer be a motivation left to uncover what is beneath these layers. when even a fraction of it is exposed, it's distorted and unfamiliar. it comes out in words i don't recognize as my own, thoughts that are voiced that don't seem to be coming from inside me. i'm as awkward as a teenage boy who's afraid to talk out of fear his voice will crack...except the voice cracking is every movement i seem to be making.

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i don't want to keep shutting people out. it feels horrible and selfish. it tears at my insides. the people in my surrounding life are kind and genuine and amazing in their own way...i just can't keep trying to be someone i no longer feel is present. words can not express how excited i am about the coming year. i've always felt 27 would be one of my best years, and i'm captivated and consumed by thoughts of what's to come...and most importantly...who's to come; who's under those layers.


my skin is itching in joyous anticipation.

my voice is ready to finally. stop. cracking.