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It’s 11:00am, Monday morning.

Still. Hasn’t. Stopped. Raining.

I’m starting to think about coming home early, maybe even today. To be honest, this rain is starting to depress me.

It started this morning, when I woke up from a dream that I could vividly recall. I dreamt that I had picked my wife up from the airport, and later when we had gone to bed for the evening, we stayed up and talked for a long time. And then due to whatever circumstances we decided it was time to go our separate ways.

About ten minutes after I woke up, my phone rang and it was Ryanne. We haven’t been able to speak since Friday, as there is no cell-hone reception while you’re out at sea. To her, it was probably a very normal conversation. To me, all I wanted was to hear the exact opposite of what my mind was still replaying… any form of sincere emotion would do. Alas, it did not come. I am not blaming her, she had just woke up, and it was not even 4am there when she called. Still, when I asked if she missed me yet, I was really hoping at that moment for quite a bit more than a lifeless, emotionless, “a little.”

I type all of this to say, the rain is definitely starting to depress me. As I sit here writing from inside a safe (albeit, very damp feeling) camper, I’m looking out a window watching the rain continue to come… and just like the puddles getting bigger with the unceasing rain, for whatever reason I continue to get more depressed.

Call me a woman, a sap, cheesy, or whatever… but I think I’m really starting to miss Ryanne. More than anything I miss her. I think I miss human contact in general though. I spent pretty much the entirety of last week in silence. I met a couple people for meals throughout the week sure, it was still a far cry from my normal existence. As much as I love my dog, he doesn’t talk back.

I think the loner I used to be has receded. I think over time I have become a much more social person, and I think I am only starting to realize it now. I suppose it’s ok, at least now I know.

Loneliness is a funny thing. I felt it pretty strong even while I was at Fusion Camp. I didn’t write about it here in my blog at the time, but I did record some thoughts on the subject in my own pen-and-paper journal I carry with me everywhere. Here’s what I wrote, originally on August 5th, 2007:

I Feel Lonely
These aren’t really my people. All of the people I know here are either busy most of the time, or are just hanging with the people they know better than me. It’s like trying to feel accepted with “the cool kids” in high school. Not that I blame or resent them in any way, it’s just a weird dynamic for me. Also, I miss my wife something fierce. It doesn’t help knowing I’ll only see her for one full day before she leaves for the Ohio State Fair, then leaves again for Alaska.

I Feel Connected
I feel closer to God here than I have in a long time. I know Ben’s messages are made for the students, but I feel like God is using them to speak some truth into my life as well.

I will be happy, and sad when it’s time to leave camp. Happy because I go back to Ryanne and routine. Sad because I want this feeling of connection to God to last forever, and I’m not sure i know how to continue it on my own just yet.

So yeah, I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. It’s not like just by going home I am going to all of sudden feel less lonely. And it’s certainly not going to be any different weather-wise. But at least at home I can go to coffee-shops where I know the owner, and have meaningless conversations with him. Right now, meaningless seems better than nothing.

It’s strange, because I don’t miss work at all. Don’t get me wrong, I miss the people, but it’s been a nice break from the daily grind. I know when I go back that I have an awful lot of work to do, so maybe that’s a part of it.

It’s 2:00pm, Monday afternoon.

I’m fairly confident I’m going to head home today. The rain has finally let up, so I have an opportunity to pack up the car. I’m not so niave to believe it’s going to dry out. I’ve seen the radar, and it’s not supposed to stop raining till tomorrow. Instead, I think i’ll take it for what it is, a window to close up the camper and pack up while staying dry.

I don’t feel like this was a failed experiment. I was up here for a weekend, read two books, and had a great conversation with God by the fire on the first night. All-in-all I would say it was a good trip. Nevertheless, I want to go home.

So, I’m putting an end to these unplugged journals. It’s time to leave.