Oregon
So my shift key is broken, which is rather annoying. I have to press the caps-lock key to capitalise everything, which is a huge pain.
Anyhow, I feel guilty about not reading my friends' LiveJournals enough. Living out here in the tundra has made me feel incredibly detached from everyone.
Though in a few weeks, I may be back in P-Town for a while. The whole time I've been here it's always been that I wanted to visit home, but it's not like we can afford frivolous things like going on holiday. But I've been living in Canada for a fair bit more than six months now, and if I want to stay legal, I have to go back for a couple of weeks. Not like I'm in any danger of being deported . . . it's just that this is an excuse to go home for a while.
Except now I don't want to go. I don't want to see how everything and everyone has changed. Maybe I'll be a little secretly heartbroken that I'm not a part of everyone's lives anymore. On the other hand, I've been hoping like crazy that they would stop missing me because it makes me feel guilty for leaving. I miss them, though. I think about them every day. Funny how you can never go home again, but you can never escape where you came from.
I dreamed of Pete the other night. Matthew and I were passing through town and stopped at the co-op to pick up groceries, and I ran into Pete. Pete hugged me and cried (funny how dream Pete cries and gives hugs that aren't awkward) and told me how much everyone missed me and asked when I would be back permanently. I don't remember what I told him.
The truth of the matter is that I'm not coming back ever again for anything more than a visit. Perhaps when I have outlived Matthew, I will move back to Portland. All of my other friends and family will be dead then too, though. Home won't be there anymore. That far into the future, I will probably just go wherever Sophie and Julian are, which will more than likely not be Portland.
Our last day in Portland, John begged us to stay just a couple more days. I should have said yes. But I wanted to leave when everything was perfect - to preserve that moment in time. I was also excited to leave the nest, to go off and see the world. Turns out it's not as cushy out here as it was back home.
Our zany misadventures brought us here, where we settled down and made our new home and new family. And I am so happy here. Sleeping every night in my soft bed with my warm lover. Watching our children grow up. Sharing my living space rather than just living in parallel with others. Maybe it is just because of Julian and my whole maternal nesting instinct thingy, but I do not at all like the idea that I should have to leave.
Maybe I shouldn't have waited until it became 'have-to'. I've been reluctant, though, because my old home is a place frozen in time and space, and I feel that if I see it again, it would be like painting over those memories. I'd like to believe that everything is exactly as I left it . . .
Anyhow, I feel guilty about not reading my friends' LiveJournals enough. Living out here in the tundra has made me feel incredibly detached from everyone.
Though in a few weeks, I may be back in P-Town for a while. The whole time I've been here it's always been that I wanted to visit home, but it's not like we can afford frivolous things like going on holiday. But I've been living in Canada for a fair bit more than six months now, and if I want to stay legal, I have to go back for a couple of weeks. Not like I'm in any danger of being deported . . . it's just that this is an excuse to go home for a while.
Except now I don't want to go. I don't want to see how everything and everyone has changed. Maybe I'll be a little secretly heartbroken that I'm not a part of everyone's lives anymore. On the other hand, I've been hoping like crazy that they would stop missing me because it makes me feel guilty for leaving. I miss them, though. I think about them every day. Funny how you can never go home again, but you can never escape where you came from.
I dreamed of Pete the other night. Matthew and I were passing through town and stopped at the co-op to pick up groceries, and I ran into Pete. Pete hugged me and cried (funny how dream Pete cries and gives hugs that aren't awkward) and told me how much everyone missed me and asked when I would be back permanently. I don't remember what I told him.
The truth of the matter is that I'm not coming back ever again for anything more than a visit. Perhaps when I have outlived Matthew, I will move back to Portland. All of my other friends and family will be dead then too, though. Home won't be there anymore. That far into the future, I will probably just go wherever Sophie and Julian are, which will more than likely not be Portland.
Our last day in Portland, John begged us to stay just a couple more days. I should have said yes. But I wanted to leave when everything was perfect - to preserve that moment in time. I was also excited to leave the nest, to go off and see the world. Turns out it's not as cushy out here as it was back home.
Our zany misadventures brought us here, where we settled down and made our new home and new family. And I am so happy here. Sleeping every night in my soft bed with my warm lover. Watching our children grow up. Sharing my living space rather than just living in parallel with others. Maybe it is just because of Julian and my whole maternal nesting instinct thingy, but I do not at all like the idea that I should have to leave.
Maybe I shouldn't have waited until it became 'have-to'. I've been reluctant, though, because my old home is a place frozen in time and space, and I feel that if I see it again, it would be like painting over those memories. I'd like to believe that everything is exactly as I left it . . .