Everyday it's a-gettin' closer

I'm happy.
It's strange I know, but there it is.
Sorry dear readers, which essentially means you, Karishma- for such a prolonged disappearing trick. Last semester left me completely drained. It was soul sucking in every sense of the term. Someone I'd known since the 7th grade, and grown up being compared to as a staid, sensible alternative to my own wilder tendencies died. She also happened to be my room-mate for the past year. I can't say I liked her, but it was a shock, and even today when I think about her- or her lack of existence rather, it's like I'm transported to that evening all over again - I'm holding this useless plate of daal in one hand while my room-mate tells me in a low measured voice that, "Rit passed away", and I stare at her in incomprehension. It doesn't make sense. Someday when I'm able to, I will write about it. For now, I'm just happy to be alive.
So last sem was a hard one for various reasons. I dreamed a huge wonderful dream and several terrible things happened that blew it up. Grand explosion that left me a sodden miserable wreck for the rest of the term. And then, and then I came home to Cal.
Coming home is..strange. It fits like your most comfortable old torn ganji that you just can't throw away. Yeah it's kind of completely batshit insane, but I'm used to the dysfunction by now. Which is another way of saying living according to rules after Canada is driving me crazy, but there's nothing I can do about it- or at least nothing that I would choose to do in good conscience.
Then there are friends. There are some awkward silences but they flee at being met with laughter and maximum ridiculosity. There is good food after sososo long (Die Pizza, I scoff at your name). There is the hard sun. Sometimes if we're lucky enough there are impromptu rain showers. One evening it transforms this really nice laid back get-together into an insane party- one of the best nights in Cal this time around. Of course all this is helped along by high spirits and clouds of smoke. There are things to look forward to. There is music and incessant giggling and strange videos with 4 Daler Mehendis and a windmill who might also be a Daler Mehendi. There is much dancing and cross-your-heart secret telling. There is laughter. There is also fighting. But then in the mornings, there is waking up early because I want to- I have been going running these days before I catch the rush hour metro to the stuffy hospital institution that is dying a slow death. There are lots of great books to read- I keep picking one up and starting another one halfway and alternating because there are just so many of them, and this is such a great feeling that I want to cry or laugh or do the hoolah but I DON'T because I'm too busy gulping the books down.
I'm beginning to feel attractive again. How do I even begin to explain what an awesome feeling that is? Suffice it to say it feels quite nice. There are boys-men, I guess. God, I keep forgetting that we're all grown ups now. There are certain interesting people who make me laugh and feel all happy and stupid but it's nice and harmless, I swear.
So what I'm saying is, I'm not floating right now- never been much of a floater. But I'm running- not away this time- I'm running through- and to quote the Beatles, I feel fine. :)