This post is a mess. I'm a mess.

I can't do this. I feel like crying. I'm sorting through all my old clothes to see what to give away, what's trash, and what I might conceivably wear in the perpetually 65 degrees Bay Are
a... and I just... I want to cry. I'm sorting through all these shirts from college: my freshman hall (Y2N is buzzing!), Women's Chorus, Delta Omicron, countless shows, and ... I mean I never wear them anymore. They are either too small (believe it or not, I have gained quite a bit a of weight since sophomore year), too big (thanks unisex sizes), or just make me feel too sloppy (oddly enough a series of dates, a price, and directions to PBK Hall aren't exactly fashionable). It's like I'm being forced to let go of college. And I never wanted to. I was never ready. I would be 21 forever; I've always thought that was the perfect age. Grown-up, but no adult responsibilities. And college... ohemgee college. Sometimes you have class, but most of the time you are just interacting with people and figuring people out. And they are all your age, and all in the same place. So you have thousands of people who know exactly where you are in life. And out in the real world, it isn't like that anymore. People are doing all kinds of things. You meet someone and they have kids, or just started a career and you are working with a bunch of 19 year olds as a camp counselor and you are like "what is my life?" I'm just looking at these T-shirts that I never wear and I know why I still have them.

I see the "One Night Only" shirt and I think of Hot Pitches and Freudian Telephone and Tequila and Tour and Dirty Madlibs and a beautiful group of some of the most funny, intelligent, and talented women. Then I see the embarassingly emo Unidentified Human Remains sweatshirt with the dead body chalk outline surrounded by a bleeding heart and I think of moody Rolfe (and all that entails), and talented Keegan, and awkward Alex, and that studio theatre where I swear the lights were always dimmed. I think of all the drama and the stress, but then the charge I got from working on such an intense show with such a solid cast. I don't even have any pictures from that one. And then I think of PBK and Christopher Owens... I can't even describe how I feel about Christopher Owens except that if he came up to me tomorrow and said "Melissa, I need you to do this part for me" I would have to seriously reconsider my move. And then my Sinfoni-sweatshirt. I think I have to take that one with me. Sinfonicron. It's Stephen, and Andy, and costume crew, and Dan, and music that I am not talented enough to sing, and just the one of the best winters of my life. And senior year. Cary Street. I miss everything so much.

AND I AM GOING TO GIVE ALL THESE SHIRTS AWAY. I get very attached to inanimate objects because of the memories I associate with them. My mom always makes fun of me for it. I am seriously on the road to being on an episode of Hoarders.

So then I'm like "I should just keep them and make a scrap quilt out of them". But THEN I'm like "You are going to destroy all these shirts that people could be wearing. SOME PEOPLE NEED SHIRTS MEL. Not everyone has the luxury of having so many shirts that you can just cut them up willy-nilly." So I can't even keep them either, but it's so hard to let them go. So hard.

Listen. All through my life, when people moved or chapters of my life closed I was always really cool about it (excluding boyfriends, those are always a mess) my motto was quite literally: "It's not like they're dead." And now with facebook, and google+ (whatever that nonsense is), tumblr, skype, telephones, and post-cards, I know I'm never really far from anyone. But this time. This time it's hard. I am leaving so many people behind. I am leaving everything familiar behind. And I feel so guilty too. My sister is going off to college a couple weeks after I leave for SF. She's six years younger than me, who ever thought that my moving out would coincide with her leaving for college? It's tearing my parents apart. My mom is so sad, and my dad is so moody. My mom gets it, she does, but she is sad. Sometimes she just comes up to me and gives me a hug. And I try not to think about it. It's like this is just something I have to do. Like college, I don't know why, it's just the natural progression of growing up. You graduate high school, you go to college, you move away from home. In my mind I'll come back someday, but who knows? Who knows what will happen. I am so sad, but I can't stay. It just wouldn't make sense. I've stayed for too long.

I feel awful, but I'm not one to tailor my life to other people. I have notebooks from college full of dreams about this move. It's time.

Pictures. Pictures from my life in VA. That I'm leaving behind. Giving away.

In order: Senior Year Halloween. Hot Pitches. Sinfonicron's Pirates of Penzance. My beautiful family.