If the Moment ever Comes

I've been really struggling with this whole going to class thing lately.

50 moments and I spend most of them watching the clock for the next to pass. Too short for too much in too little. Four in one day is too many and I have other pursuits that intrigue me.

My passions are fading. Things that were important to me, but are now out of reach, seem to no longer fascinate me. I can't figure out if this is because I don't want to strain myself wanting something I can't have or if I am trying to save myself with practicality. They're probably one and the same. Either way, I don't think I like it. I want my drive back.
I'm still living in the shadow of those who are going for the unobtainable.

I do feel at home here. When I look at the windows of the old houses turned classrooms that are ready to fall down around my ankles, I feel at home. Just here in this little slice of the Grove. The whole of the city I am venturing into slowly now that I have a ride and have been granted passage. It's hard to know somewhere if you can't get around.

Something else that's odd and new. And amazing. Maybe we can see the world. Maybe you can make it possible. It feels like it might be that way. I didn't know before but waking up next to you is one of the happiest things for right now. We're not finished yet.

I want to start writing again. Pick up some sort of creative pursuit.

I'm done waiting for whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing.
I am going to go find it.