55.

in the last 48 hours i've nestled into approximately seven hours of sleep. my voice sounds like the raspy recordings of tom waits, which would be amazing except i'm a lady, i suffered a bittersweet loss at the bag game, i was surrounded by friends who traveled by plane and train, i was surprised by the sweetness of familiarity, i consumed far too much Jameson, i accepted flattery, i continued (albeit at times against feelings of reluctance from my heart) cultivating new friendship after new friendship, i played my guitar for an audience, i danced to atlanta hip hop, and, most (i guess) importantly, received my diploma as evidence that through a shit storm of a year in a new town with fading support systems and rocky foundations i finished this degree i set out to get. my path was not disturbed, although my heart has been shaken.

i'm tired right now.

i recognize that what kept me going through the final month of this degree was a knowledge of far away loves that believed in me. the south cradles sweet hearts that have a permanent Courtney-shaped-place in them that even in my absence recognize that absence. that even when i'm gone, remember that i was there. that struggle against geographical distance with a history that has engraved upon it memories of a woman that some people believe in. what has helped me stand on my own two feet in this new city, with love falling away from me in many respects, is the far off love of friends shining like a beacon of possibility and belief.

today i held this diploma and cried. i wasn't sure why.

today i wanted to run from this city, fly from this city, escape without notice, and go to comfort, go to safety, fall into arms of unconditional love that doesn't fade with a transition or rocky waters. today i wanted to summon the strength to be proud of myself.

i am.

i've learned a lot aside from the accruing of intellectual facts and fictions.

i've learned how difficult leaving your homeplace is.

i've learned how difficult losing "family" is.

i've learned how difficult believing can be.

i've learned how deeply holding out hope can scar.

i've done it though. dang it, i did this thing and Georgia, i can't wait to see the pride in your eyes when i return for my visit.

please, please, please embrace me with the safety of remembrance.

hold me close like you recognize my value as a human being, as a woman, and as a member of the many communities i've put my heart into cultivating.

i need it like i never i knew i would. i need to rest easy.

i was never looking for piece of paper to show that i could do this and i never ever anticipated what this piece of paper would come to symbolize.

but, hell, here it is:

goodnight. i'm going to sleep for a long, long time.