Sofie De Man (†04/02/2012)

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(Un)necessary Who ever thought that being unnecessary was a concrete idea? From what I know, feelings are abstract. This means that you, feeling depressed, should never think you are worthless. But, why does it feel like your heart has been sealed up in concrete? Why does talking help for only a second? Even though the person we are talking to has been there forever, or at least seems like it, why, WHY, do we push them away for our own torture? Is be because we want attention? Is it because we want to be alone? Do we want them to feel the sting of rejection? Maybe. Maybe we think that. Maybe we want all of that. Or, maybe, just maybe, what we want most of all will happen. They will look into our eyes, and remind us they are never leaving. They will say the right thing, whether they think they did or not. They will try their hardest to speak their mind out against ours, because they care. They will speak out, because they know what we're thinking is neither healthy nor something they could deal with easily. What are we thinking about? It could be death, cutting, refusal to eat, refusal to dance, to love, to wish, and to accept. Instead of turning away and talking about another solution, or problem of their own, our friends sit and listen. They want not to hear our pain, but listen so that we will feel better. We talk to them, because we trust them, we know them, we want to know them, or because the thoughts that have been swirling around in our heads, one thing leading to another and then making stupid analogies like, "if i throw this piece of paper in the trash, I'll get a 100% on my essay..." Is not something our friends wish to see. No, they wish to see us bloom, to sing, to run, to enjoy the activities we once did, to carve pumpkins on Halloween, to ride our bikes in the rain, to go on long walks, and have long conversations until 3 a.m. They want to see us happy. I want to see you happy, because seeing you jubilant sparks something inside of me. The old light that was lit by laughter and song is once more. Thank you, Astrid, because you have relit that spark.

Astrid My best friend and I wrote each other letters, took film photos, and were, we thought, born into the wrong century -- forever trying to get back to that place where things meant more because they were prettier and slower, and because you weren't sure if they'd work.

First Embrace of Sewanee's Beauty Reminiscing on all the factors that have made this place both beautiful and tragic. Sitting here, heading into my last year, I begin to remember all the firsts that have occurred at this place. The first time I ever came to Sewanee, taking family photographs with the gorgeous cumberland valley background. The first time I ever sat late at night with my best friend, watching the twinkling lights of both the small town and the stars. But tonight is different... I sit alone, well almost alone. I sit with my memories, on the edge of this mountain, on the edge of leaving it all behind.