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| It has been quite a while since I was last here.
Going through the entries I still feel the fervor of youth weave in and out of the lines I wrote long ago. I can almost see slivers of passion lift from the pages like wisps of smoke. Words long-laid to rest here in the pages of my paper heart; put here to rest in peace amongst the rest of my homeless feelings, still manage to grip my heart in a vise— reminders of our immortality.
Reminders I thought I outgrew.
And have I not grown in the last few years? Have I not learned how to let my feelings cool ‘til I could react as a mild tempered adult? So why does my heart race like it has never been here before? Why does it yearn like it has never loved but you?
But would the you then love the me now? Possibly; possibly our love would be more ethereal and perfect. And the fire would be a simmering heat instead of an explosive, destroy-everything-in-its-path fire. And we would still be alive…
Aqualung twinkles in the air along with memories of dim dawn mornings filled with warmth as I finally remember why I no longer come here. | | |
| My first week in Chicago was really rough.
Before I moved here I thought I'd hit the ground running. Instead I hit the ground face first and I hit it hard; I got incredibly homesick and so lonely. I missed my family, I missed my dog, and I missed my friends (though when I was in Minnesota I hardly saw my family, rarely did anything special with my dog, and was too busy for my friends).
Here I was in this breathtaking city meeting all sorts of incredible people but I was overwhelmed. I felt so little and unimportant. I spent my spare time cooped up in our condo and stared at the skyline every night, crying at sunset because I was a small speck of dust in this huge city and I missed 'home' even though I wasn't quite sure where that was anymore. I think a little bit of this was due to the gloomy weather. It rained, was overcast, and gray all week so even if I wanted to (not that I did) I couldn't go outside.
But I am in love with a very astute and understanding man. At the end of every day, he laid next to me in bed while I cried under the covers, and poked fun at me, making me laugh and feel a little better about my situation- reminding me that I wasn't alone in this large city, that we had each other. And little by little, my blues went away.
This past week was very uplifting. I spent most of the days out and about in bright, sunny, warm fall weather. I exercised, wandered around the city by myself, met great people, and I found myself happy.
God constantly reminds me of my blessings so here I am counting them: every morning I wake up next to the man I love who is ambitious, driven, and caring- a man who loves me in return threefold. I have family and parents who worry enough to text and call me often to make sure I am doing well, my friends wish me nothing but the best, and my life is filled with opportunities. I have nothing to be sad about because I have so many incredible people in my life. And I am alive to enjoy them.
Thank You for everything. I will trust in You and Your direction, that You know what is best for me.
The amazing man whose biggest fault is that he hogs all six of our pillows, both blankets, and our king sized bed. Haha. The things you give up when you love someone.
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| I still feel a little out of place as I wander the streets of this city. Sometimes it feels surreal that I am here, so far away from home. Once in a while, a feeling of belonging strikes, and I know I am right where I am suppose to be. It is those fleeting moments that save me from drowning in my own thoughts.
Although I am where I want to be, I haven't yet decided if I am needed here.
. . . but tomorrow is another day, and with it, another chance to sway me towards home. God grant me courage, strength, and wisdom, and let my heart hear Your blessings for me.
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| When I go to my mother's I am usually surrounded by noise and chaos, but it is chaos that is warm and comforting, which I occasionally need. It is very quiet tonight though-- everyone is out celebrating the union of my cousin and his new bride, and tomorrow will be another day of celebrations and silliness for the entire family. I am very happy about this union. And I wish them many many happy years together as they have already had.
But I am home soaking in the last sights, noises, and smells of my mother's house-- lying on the burgandy colored sofa set that I have spent more than enough sleepless nights on while heartbroken, lost, and empty. I will miss it here. Though I have lived on my own for the last couple of years now I have always considered my mother's house 'home'. My apartment has always been just 'my apartment'...
So when I move to Chicago permanently on Sunday with nothing but a lot of clothing and my heart on my sleeve, will it be just 'his place' or will this turn into 'home'? I don't know the answer to that yet, and I'm not in a hurry to, but tonight it is just very apparent that from now on out 'home' will no longer be just a short drive away. And when I am lost and hurt, where will I go 'home' to?
But I can't let that stop me so here I go. Goodbye safe little bubble.
Hello big scary world..
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| Has it really been that long since I've last seen you?
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stray.
I have just been a little crazy but I'm here now.
And I could never forget you. | | |
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