What I’m about to describe is—should be—impossible. Unfathomable. Inconceivable, even. (Although the word may not mean what I think it means).  And yet here I am, unable to sleep on some idle weekday morning, my mind racing as I pore over pictures from what seems an age ago.

Enough of this introduction business. I’ll come right out and say it. I, Jon Jackson, miss my friends. There. I, Jon Jackson, the guy who never looked back when it was time to move on, the guy who always said “I’ll miss you, too” but never really meant it, the guy who simply could not spare the time to keep in touch with friends from elementary school, or high school, or even the peeps down the hall…I wouldn’t say I’m homesick, because this place is heavenly.  I mean, I have to actually make an attempt if I seek boredom. And yet, it is in those quiet moments that I find myself looking back, thinking on those incredible people at my home university, checking my email/AOL Instant Messenger/the Facebook with increasing regularity to see if someone, anyone could spare a moment to drop me a line.

I’m not homesick, but maybe I’m a little lonely.  I’m not able to open up to this group of almost-strangers the way I could to my circle back home, and so I feel isolated, much in the same way that one can stand on a crowded sidewalk and feel utterly alone.

And what’s more frustrating is that I don’t know what to do about it.  This feeling came suddenly, and in thinking about it, the knowledge that my friends are all beginning a new semester without me makes me feel a little…unneeded, as ridiculous as it sounds. Before, it was summertime, we were all doing our own thing, but now, they’re all working, partying, eating, sans me.

However, as miserable as I sound, I’m quite certain that the feeling will pass in a few days.  I’m not exactly scuffling around in my pajamas, stuffing my face with ice cream and wailing that there is no true love.  Life tumbles on, and I’m tumbling with it.  My time here already nears its halfway point, and—let’s be honest—the family and friends back in Texas?  They’re crazy jealous already.  I’ve got to come back with a stack of adventures to tell around campfires, and while roping calves on the frontier, and whatever nutty Texas stereotype you can think of.  All that to say this: Every moment I’ve got here (or anywhere, for that matter) is precious.  Whenever I find myself down, I shake myself of it by remembering that every moment sighing and thinking about what everyone back home is doing is a moment that I could spend laughing with my new pals, learning how to swim, climbing a mountain, or—heaven forbid—doing homework.  I’ll see my friends again; they’ll be there when I get back.

And now, I think I’ve put myself in a mood for delicious, delicious ice cream.  No, I don’t care if it’s winter.  No wailing, I promise.