November.

I woke up Thursday morning singing "November," by Azure Ray. I woke up smelling harvest, watching water droplets on the windows melt, making the outside world visible. I longed for November, sweet November. When dark amber and burnt siennas scatter to the earth's surface, reuniting themselves with the cold soil. I kept hoping for Autumn. Hoping it would come soon this year. I found myself looking up at the trees every few moments, hoping the emerald leaves had transitioned to a warm gold. Like a child, trying to catch a glimpse of the Tooth Fairy, I restlessly watched. Waited. I craved the transition. I needed the change. Because I'm stuck.

I'm living underwater. Everything is lethargic and far away. I know there's a world up there, a sunlit quick world where time runs like dry sand through an hourglass, but down here, where I am, air and sound and time and feeling are thick and dense. In this place, everything is new. New apartment, with it's creaky floorboards and newly wallpapered blue kitchen wall. New job, with the physically demanding tasks I'm still fervently trying to adjust to. New, shiny, people. An entire University full of them. I shouldn't feel this cemented. Should I?

Is there a reason to my antisocial tendencies? It was long after the day had passed, when I realized I hadn't had any direct contact, with anyone. I was sitting on the train, thinking to myself, and when I came to this realization, I laughed. I laughed out loud, in front of thirty or so strangers. I didn't even care. I enjoyed being alone. I enjoyed being content with myself, not having to depend on anyone. I thought back to my day: I called farewell to Haeleigh while she showered, and then I shut and locked the front door, sealing my words inside my apartment with her. The remainder of the day consisted of me anxiously walking to classes, eager to feed my brain with new information; I've been aching for new material. No time for social interaction. No need. Between a gap in academics, I spread my arms and legs on the grass in front of the Union Building, writing in my leather bound journal, sipping a soy latte, letting the warm sun soak my feet and the cool shade bask my face. I was happy. Genuinely happy.

All is well. I will wait for sweet November.