I saw Jose.
I saw green and smelt pines and felt the rain and spent a very short window of time with my most favorite, most huggable mexican. It is funny to watch how our lives have changed, how we've grown different. How we dress better, shower more, eat healthier, feel older, skinny dip less. We are figuring shit out, getting our shit together, trying to deal with shit, trying to move on from love and shit and to be the people that UWC inspired us to be. And shit.
We'll be fine. We'll meet for short nostalgia filled weekends, quick pitstops on our individual journeys, desperate trips for the comfort of people who became family and then moved on, slow summer visits to re-entangle our lives, and eventually- weddings, celebrations, reunions to look back and marvel at what was born, which soulmate was found and why we still believe in it.
Portland helped me see that I have moved on with my life. That a hug from Jose is still one of my favorite feelings in the world, but that it isn't going anywhere. That we will move on, and love other things, and other people and it won't lessen what our two years of UWC gave us.
We'll be fine.