I've never really had visible problems before. I like to think I've been the sturdy one, the one who tells people in distress to relax, slowly work through it, you can do it, it'll be fine. I am the one whose turbulence is kept inside, placated with a favorite song, and forgotten until tomorrow. I wasn't crying at the end of May because in my mind TMS could never end. Is it just hitting me now that it's over? I did my fair share of seeing folks over the summer, and I maintain that with Skype we're never not connected, despite how far west of the Mississippi we may live, but suddenly I'm feeling this longing for seeing people; I just wish you were here! I read the messages in your voice, remember your face and mannerisms, place that in an appropriate location--the library? Pat's class?--but it's not real. The top keeps spinning. I want you, the irregularities, the awkward references and sentences I can't help but bring up; I want you in person so we can just be.

I haven't been back at school for that long now, but in the days that I've stood in the same halls I was standing in since literally birth and hearing everyone reconnect, I can't help but feel sad.

Yes, there are familiar faces. Yes, once classes really get going it won't be so bad, yes, it's possible to make new friends, but given the number of people I really knew well minus those who graduated and factoring in a six-month absence from their lives, I feel intimidated.

Everyone has their circles. They move around through activities and talk with their friends. It's organic. It flows. I go from class to class with that purpose and no other. I talk with someone. It's forced. I work my way through the treacherous world of small-talk, joyous when I see someone I haven't used all my stored questions on yet: How's your summer? What classes do you have?

Yes, it'll get better. Yes, I can decide to attend 'social events', to at least be outside instead of on the internet searching for a funny picture I haven't seen yet. Yes, I will know more people and form new inside jokes. Yes, I'll work up the courage and things will work out.

But for now I'm melancholy.