The other day I found myself silently celebrating my 6 month anniversary in Florida. 6 months of complete and total independent living, without my family or help of anykind.
I’ve been sailing a one manned ship for 6 very bumpy months, and I’ve managed to make it work every single day.
One thing I’ve learned in my life is that God likes to outdo Himself.
God has taken me places that I never thought possible. He has opened up doors that I never imagined and has brought me closer to my brother than I have ever in my life.
Staying up hours on end talking about the future, our lives, and our dreams. I truly believe that we put behind us the difficulties that we always had over the years.
Going home (North Carolina) for however long the trip might be, I always find myself feeling refreshed and relieved once I returned back to Florida. I can only handle so much of the past before it really eats at my heart. I spent 20 years racking up bad memories in a tiny 4 mile long town. Every building, every road, every person, has a memory attached to it. This last trip home was possibly the hardest, to date. I spent two long weeks in the mountains, trying my hardest to spend quality time with each and every person I loved. Well; mission accomplished.
Even though I was able to see everyone I had hoped to, I still spent most of my 9 hour drive home in tears. I had made a very difficult choice on my last day in North Carolina. A choice that I can see effecting me for years into the future. Truthfully I do not regret that decision, and I/m happy of my choice.
No lies, No facade, No fake smile. Exactly what you wanted.
The thing about moving to the very place that use to be your sanctuary, is that it becomes painfully common.
We all have the place where we run to, the place where we hide. What if it has now become your everyday life, and there is nothing extraordinary about it anymore.
Twice I have done this.
Moved to the place where I use to constantly run to.
Asheville was my sanctuary from Franklin.
And Tampa was my sanctuary from North Carolina.
Both places had dwindled into my mediocre timeline.
For a substantial number of years, I have been living out of my car, or a suitcase, or on a couch, or in someones spare bedroom. For the majority of my adult life, I have chose to live in these conditions. I have never minded it, no matter how sad it sounds.
I’ve just always been running away.
Putting more distance between me and my emotional tie I had with a man.
Constantly on the running from a relationship I ended.
Why am I like this? Why do I love to run away? I can honestly say I don’t even understand my own reasoning.
I moved out of my parents house when I was 17 years old, and since then I haven’t managed to spent more than 11 months in one place. Even the last home I lived in, where I was suppose to let myself settle and make a life in, I had to force myself to hang things up and try and get comfortable, because I knew I wouldn’t be there long.
Home is where the heart is. Home is wherever I’m with you. This is a house, not a home.
Do you know how many times I’ve fed those lines? How many times I’ve NOT felt at home. It’s unbelievable that at 21 years old, I am still living out of a suitcase and boxes…