I’m having the sort of night where I’d like to climb out on the fire escape, or maybe even up it to the roof, wrapped in a blanket, barefoot and vulnerable to the world. Where I would like to lean against MoMo, or curl up and watch endless hours of CSI with Bennett.
I think I’m lonely.
No, I know I’m lonely.
Laurie and I were talking today, about how academics don’t often put down roots in new communities. She was being acidic about it, playing up the elitism that often plagues academics, but she was right, in some ways. Mostly because it’s just difficult to put down effective roots. Especially since I know this place isn’t permanent for me, I know I’ll be leaving after I graduate.
When I was in Seattle, I wasn’t certain I was ever going to leave. I settled, for the first time since my mid-teens. I allowed myself to make connections, and for the first time since I can’t even remember how long, friends. People I could trust, let my hair down with, relax. I hadn’t really believed, that after so many years in one place, I was going to leave again.
And yet, I did.
I guess it’s just been on my mind. I knew I was making a lonely choice when I made it, and that it would be a long path. But sometimes it’s hard to be reminded of what you had, and what you walked away from, and won’t have again.
Of course, you could also just call this “still suffering writers block, feeling sorry for self, and visited the liquor store.” Probably more accurate, anyway.