I would like to tell the world I am fine. Sometimes I don't want to share these feelings because I know there are worse things in the world and I know it will get better.
Even when I am falling in love this city, when I know this is where I should be, there are moments when I wonder what the hell I am doing. When my system shut down on Friday I lay in this bed, in a borrowed rented room, in an apartment with strangers, I didn't want to be here anymore. The worst part is not having a place I'd rather be. For a long time now I haven't had a home or anyone to long for. I can't pretend that one place or person will make it better.
I've been making the world my home. Strangers my friends. Finding love in all of my relationships. For the most part this is more than enough but I'd be lying if I said sometimes I didn't want something concrete. I miss that feeling.
I was talking with a friend and I said maybe being lost and lonely is where I'm supposed to be. At least it is inspiring. I know it will help me grow. It might even help my writing. I joked, "Hemmingway didn't write great novels about coming home and cooking for his wife, now did he?"
I'll get through this. I feel like I'm at the start of something. I feel like my career is going to take off as I learn to be creative again. That I'll find my truest love once I am settled in my own skin. Like one day I'll even have something that feels like home. For now I'll write this awkward chapter in between.