6 (or esperanza.)

I've had M83's Saturdays = Youth on repeat for days now.

I felt a strain deep down in my chest for the handful of days over Christmas. I am surrounded by noise here, infiltrating every corner of conscious and it drives me crazy, as if I'm in the center of a mob and everyone's back is to me but no one will stop talking. I rarely hear a heartbeat from these city streets, and I grapple for every centimeter of confidence and esteem I can get. This time around I've now deemed it a pre-departure confidence crisis, where I feel insignificant and pull away from everyone. It happens every time I prepare to go thousands of miles away, but this time I feel like I'm going through motions from the summer of 2006, when I emanated distrust toward everyone. I restrained the crisis for a long time but last week I caved in and let it consume me. Emotions fluctuate, a lot, but it's all part of the pre-departure process, I suppose.

The strain first broke on Saturday during a brief phone conversation with Kate, my anchor, my ally, forever. It settled my soul and I just needed to be back home in Baltimore in her presence as soon as possible, which turned out to be, although short, that night. I went up to Baltimore to Woodberry Kitchen with my mom and Craig, and the restaurant once again proved its worth as a divine meal, indeed.

Afterwards I drove over to the Black Cat Red Room to celebrate my friend Mae's 21st birthday as well as catch up with the friends I rarely see, both in-town and out-of-town. I've only been to the Black Cat for shows or Food for Thought, so it was refreshing to just hang out in the Red Room and talk, ever so loudly over the music. It was a much welcome reunion. I left smiling and slept smiling.

Sunday I drove to College Park for post-Christmas dinner with Karen and Peter and a couple other people. Sitting on the trunk of my mom's car in the parking lot at Plato's, the weather was mild and relieving. My confidence began to build again and I stepped back on solid ground with playful banter between good friends. We can shake but can't crumble.

I made my way to Baltimore on Monday for records and warm drinks with Kate and stayed up all night with Bepstein and Jack. The following afternoon Chris and I drove down to the REI in NoVA so I could finish up some packing for Costa Rica (although still not done), and then we made our way through downtown DC so I could meet up with Lela, my friend from birth 'til death. We got manicures and pedicures and had dinner and gossiped and giggled...I see Lela briefly for only a few times out of the year, and every time it reminds me that we remain stable with our months apart. I have so many friends strewn about this country that I never see, sometimes for months or years, and when I do it's like we never left. I need to remember that physical presence, for a long time, meant very little in many of my close friendships, and those close friendships often survived the distance. I need to channel this confidence into my relationships here in the mid-atlantic and step away knowing they aren't houses of cards.

Tonight will more than likely be my final good-bye to my friends in DC. Hopefully it will be enjoyable.