Pick up your crazy heart and give it one more try.

A couple of nights ago, a good friend asked me a question. He asked where I would want to be,  if I could be anywhere in the world. Without thinking, I said there, in that exact spot, in that exact moment. I mean, c'mon. How many places in the world have a view like the sun setting over Buena Vista? Between Good View, great food and better company, who could ask for anything more? I've spent quite a bit of time thinking about this moment since then. And, as it turns out, I was more right than I originally thought.

I had a chance to go anywhere in the world. Yeah, at graduation, I could've gone to any city or school. I chose Phoenix. And then, later, when I decided it was time to grow up, I could've picked anywhere. Yeah, going to a church school was highly recommended, but if I didn't want to go that path I would've found another way. As it was, there was only one place in my heart, and that was here. From that first moment that I stepped off the airplane into Roanoke back in May, I knew that this was the place. That's all I could think, this is the place. This is the place that I want to spend the next four years of my life. This is the place that I want to tell my kids about. This is the place that I plan to meet some of the greatest friends I'll ever have, and maybe even someone to spend forever with. This is the place that I'm supposed to be.

It's really hard to remember this, going through the day to day of life. I get caught up in the drama and the stress and the humdrum, or start missing my family and friends and an H&M within driving distance. But I know that it's true. There's something here for me. Maybe someone. It's hard to say at this point. But what is important is that it's here, and that I'm going to find it. And next time I feel frustrated or hurt or upset, I need to remember that life isn't a series of accidents. There's a point, and a purpose, and a reason. I just need to make sure that I do everything I can to make it happen.



Really, the moral of this story is that I have ridiculous l'esprit de l'escalier: when you think of a response when it's too late to deliver it.