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| | I Wander Down a Dark Road | | | Monday, May 12, 2008 (10:19 AM)
(I'm feeling depressed) | | | I guess I'm officially a wanderer.
I knew it when I wandered in california with two of my best friends.
I guess I just never knew how natural it is for me.
I've lived in huntington beach, anaheim, long beach, brea, fullerton, and now Louisiana. I've fallen in love with more then just those places of course, I've also felt home to be the town of Minden in Nevada, as well as Corona in California. I'm leaving this place that I've called home for the last 5 months, and I can't describe the despair that I feel as I realize the possibility that I may never truly be happy with my roots in any one place. Her family has become my family. Her friends are another matter altogether, one that I would rather not get into. In 2008, I spent mothers day with the woman I had once hoped to call my Mother-in-law, and the man I would have loved to call my father-in-law. God knows this isn't the first time I have implanted my life in the quilts that are the loved ones of my own loved ones. I call AT LEAST 6 different woman "Mom", and just as many men do I call "Dad". I love my own father dearly, as well as the woman I would like to some day be able to call my official step-mom. But it seems that because of my own family history, one of adoptions both legal and by association, and one of many faces both different in ethnicity AND lifestyle, I have become someone who finds it easy to fall into good terms with families. I can't see the bad in this, but...
...it's starting to hurt.
In the last 5 months, I have given up my life in California (including but not limited to: my parking spot, my bed, my room, my beautiful view of my city's park, my custom door, my dog, my beaches, my friends, my position as Lead Graphic Artist at my last Californian job, and obviously my family) to start one with someone here in Louisiana. That was a move that many have seen as rash, and an unwise thing to do. But honestly, I say "piss on that" to any notion of that sort. I'm proud of my move, sadly unfortunate as it has ended, and I would have done it over just the same, granted i was given the chance. I am sure I have grown in more ways then I know of myself, and even in my time of hurt, I have been given new strengths, as well as new perceptions, and a greater knowledge of things. I take many scars with this passing of an era as well. I fear that some parts of me have died in some ways, but I remain hopeful that they shall return from the ashes as the flames of my depression subside.
Not only had I given up my life in California, but 5 months later, I have to say good bye to my life in Louisiana (including but not limited to: my trees, my grass, my bayous, my alligator buddies, my po-boys, my comfortable new bed, my office, my view of the trees, my sounds of southern rain falling in the soft mist of the morning, my frogs chirping in the changes of the air, my living lanterns flying in the shape of Lightning Bugs, my hank ((my puppy)), my house, my love for the last year, and obviously my family) and hope beyond hope that I can fall back into the swing of things at my old home in California. Fear is a good description of what I'm feeling, though something is definitely missing from it's services. I suppose its the feeling that I Miss (this is where the tears have started to fall upon my space-bar)...
I already miss my Louisiana.
And I don't even leave till wednesday.
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