Floating
Now that I have a place to go on Monday when I get back from my Labor Day weekend in Tacoma/Seattle (visiting Laura again!), I feel so good.
I met up with my new roommate tonight, and when I saw her again, I felt relief. I had built up a concerned feeling about the situation after she dragged out the decision process over a couple weeks, but she was as cool as I remembered, and we were both excited to see each other. We chatted at a coffee shop for a bit, but then headed over to the house. One of the guys in the other apartment was having a bbq that night, so I got to meet him, plus some other really cool people. Everyone was friendly. And when I wasn't actively talking with someone, I didn't feel awkward or weird to just be standing there, as I sometimes feel when I'm at a party when I don't really know anyone.
It really sunk in that I could eventually feel at home here, and yet, somehow I felt like I was floating outside this scene which was my reality.
It's a difficult feeling to describe, but sometimes in Portland when I'm meeting new people or driving to a new place or just being somewhere new, I almost feel like I'm not actually there. I first felt this sensation when I was visiting Portland back in April. It's like, I'm here, I'm doing this stuff, seeing these amazing things, and meeting these great people, but it's like there's a part of me hanging back a little, maybe observing from somewhere else. But yeah, It's hard to accurately describe.
Maybe I feel this way because I don't have actual roots here, and I'm not just on vacation. I'm working on making a place for myself in this city, but don't actually have it yet, and I've never done anything like this before. Maybe it's all the newness of the experiences that makes me feel detached on some level.
I've never experienced the same sensation when I'm on vacation; whether I've been in Mexico, on a small island in the Pacific Ocean, or in Europe, I've always felt sturdy and present. Although, thinking about it, most of the places I've traveled to, I've known people there. I either have family or friends who I stay with. Perhaps having that personal connection has a grounding effect. Although Justin and Stephanie are technically here, they both have their own stuff going on, and I don't really see them all that often. I'm certainly not relying on them to show me around or help me figure anything out. In some ways I'm more on my own that I've ever been.
I wonder if when I'm finally settled in my new apartment, whether that will help to ground me. I hope so.
I met up with my new roommate tonight, and when I saw her again, I felt relief. I had built up a concerned feeling about the situation after she dragged out the decision process over a couple weeks, but she was as cool as I remembered, and we were both excited to see each other. We chatted at a coffee shop for a bit, but then headed over to the house. One of the guys in the other apartment was having a bbq that night, so I got to meet him, plus some other really cool people. Everyone was friendly. And when I wasn't actively talking with someone, I didn't feel awkward or weird to just be standing there, as I sometimes feel when I'm at a party when I don't really know anyone.
It really sunk in that I could eventually feel at home here, and yet, somehow I felt like I was floating outside this scene which was my reality.
It's a difficult feeling to describe, but sometimes in Portland when I'm meeting new people or driving to a new place or just being somewhere new, I almost feel like I'm not actually there. I first felt this sensation when I was visiting Portland back in April. It's like, I'm here, I'm doing this stuff, seeing these amazing things, and meeting these great people, but it's like there's a part of me hanging back a little, maybe observing from somewhere else. But yeah, It's hard to accurately describe.
Maybe I feel this way because I don't have actual roots here, and I'm not just on vacation. I'm working on making a place for myself in this city, but don't actually have it yet, and I've never done anything like this before. Maybe it's all the newness of the experiences that makes me feel detached on some level.
I've never experienced the same sensation when I'm on vacation; whether I've been in Mexico, on a small island in the Pacific Ocean, or in Europe, I've always felt sturdy and present. Although, thinking about it, most of the places I've traveled to, I've known people there. I either have family or friends who I stay with. Perhaps having that personal connection has a grounding effect. Although Justin and Stephanie are technically here, they both have their own stuff going on, and I don't really see them all that often. I'm certainly not relying on them to show me around or help me figure anything out. In some ways I'm more on my own that I've ever been.
I wonder if when I'm finally settled in my new apartment, whether that will help to ground me. I hope so.