Happy Thanksgiving.
It's increasingly strange how being away from Florida makes me feel these days.
Free mostly, with a chaser of fresh air and fresh starts.
The more I think about it the more I come to the conclusion that Florida isn't my home. I don't truly think it ever was. Coming back has never filled me with relaxation and a sigh of relief, it only holds me over until something more comes my way and I get the rush of leaving the state lines all over again. the rush that gives me this sense of purity. I have never been the kind of girl who thought I held onto moments in time by hendering them still in the actual places in which these events took place. But, I've seen that I infact do. Everytime I pass certain buildings and parks I think of those memories, and oddly enough only a quarter are pleasant to me. Most may have been pleasant in that moment in time, but the memory is followed by the tragic endings that soon followed. I drive by restaurants and become ill from displeasure and I most certainly have began to feel haunted by all the bad.
I don't like that feeling, that feeling of hatred. I don't genuinely hate but, the words ooze out of me in Florida. I blame the heat. I haven't had a hateful thought since leaving that hateful place. I think it matters where I move, but I don't think it matters as long as I move, away, away from all of the silence and stillness of being alone. Away from the memories that follow me until I am plagued by sadness and knee deep in shit.
This freshness gives me inspiration to be more. I went ice skating yesterday, for the first time ever. I didn't fall- not even once. The ease of being on ice soothed me until I was breezing past Dan and chuckling with defeat. I wanted to spin and twirl like the little girls stumbling past in their tights and tutu. I think it's blissful you see, that change that I am conveying to you all. Read the words that I am pouring out. It's my confession, my truths.
I don't feel like I'm that girl that you all knew once before, the trees that change colors here have expressed that to me. The laughter from my child who loves hearing my heartbeat while I rock her to sleep expresses that to me. My husband each morning when he brushes hair from my eyes and kisses me on the forehead expresses that to me. I'm fond of this life. I didn't pick it but, I'll play these cards I've been dealt. I feel like it's quite a good hand.
this is a new home for me, a place to lay my hat and heart.
I am returning to Florida until something better comes along and I can feel that rush all over again. the rush and thrill of growth.
That growth that feeds me strength and compassion, that eats away a bit of my cynicism and makes me laugh with instead of laugh at.
Florida isn't me, i'm proud to find- it never was.
A part of me knew that already.
Free mostly, with a chaser of fresh air and fresh starts.
The more I think about it the more I come to the conclusion that Florida isn't my home. I don't truly think it ever was. Coming back has never filled me with relaxation and a sigh of relief, it only holds me over until something more comes my way and I get the rush of leaving the state lines all over again. the rush that gives me this sense of purity. I have never been the kind of girl who thought I held onto moments in time by hendering them still in the actual places in which these events took place. But, I've seen that I infact do. Everytime I pass certain buildings and parks I think of those memories, and oddly enough only a quarter are pleasant to me. Most may have been pleasant in that moment in time, but the memory is followed by the tragic endings that soon followed. I drive by restaurants and become ill from displeasure and I most certainly have began to feel haunted by all the bad.
I don't like that feeling, that feeling of hatred. I don't genuinely hate but, the words ooze out of me in Florida. I blame the heat. I haven't had a hateful thought since leaving that hateful place. I think it matters where I move, but I don't think it matters as long as I move, away, away from all of the silence and stillness of being alone. Away from the memories that follow me until I am plagued by sadness and knee deep in shit.
This freshness gives me inspiration to be more. I went ice skating yesterday, for the first time ever. I didn't fall- not even once. The ease of being on ice soothed me until I was breezing past Dan and chuckling with defeat. I wanted to spin and twirl like the little girls stumbling past in their tights and tutu. I think it's blissful you see, that change that I am conveying to you all. Read the words that I am pouring out. It's my confession, my truths.
I don't feel like I'm that girl that you all knew once before, the trees that change colors here have expressed that to me. The laughter from my child who loves hearing my heartbeat while I rock her to sleep expresses that to me. My husband each morning when he brushes hair from my eyes and kisses me on the forehead expresses that to me. I'm fond of this life. I didn't pick it but, I'll play these cards I've been dealt. I feel like it's quite a good hand.
this is a new home for me, a place to lay my hat and heart.
I am returning to Florida until something better comes along and I can feel that rush all over again. the rush and thrill of growth.
That growth that feeds me strength and compassion, that eats away a bit of my cynicism and makes me laugh with instead of laugh at.
Florida isn't me, i'm proud to find- it never was.
A part of me knew that already.