Piece, Place, and Past
Yesterday I went to the movies. I saw Step Up 2, because I love dance movies. I went home after, and because I'm working graveyard, I try to stay up on my nights off, to keep my sleep schedule the same, so I settled in with Knightfight, and my DVDs of Gilmore Girls. I upped my stats quite well, and watched four episodes. It was wonderful, and sad.
I'm at work now, with Knightfight up on one window, and lj on another, I have a book, and the radio is playing songs I know and remember, songs that stir me and remind me of places and people I know. I am happy, contented. I have more more of those contented moments now than I have had in a long time. I know I am building something here in Phoenix, I know I have begun the base.
I like the desert. I like the colors, the shapes and the shadows. I miss the rain, and the green, but I could be happy here. Except something is missing. I don't know what it is, only that it isn't here. I no longer have the edge of desperation that I had in Vancouver, I no longer have that sneaky feeling that nothing will ever be good. It must have crept in while I was working at the hospital, sometime after our department moved from security to volunteer services.
Working two jobs, never getting enough sleep, always worried that today I would be late, today I would forget to do something I was supposed to, today someone would get upset and complain, and I would be let go. And then I was. And then I had a whole new set of worries. Can I make enough at newspapers to meet my obligations, to pay my rent and support myself? Will this be the day my car breaks down for good, leaving me with nothing? I was struggling, spiraling further and further down to a place I didn't want to be, to a self I didn't want to know. And it was increasingly clear to me that I was drowning, and I wasn't going to make it. I don't know if my friends and family could see it. I don't know if they wanted to help but didn't know how. I just know I felt lost.
So I came here, to Phoenix, the Valley of the Sun, the desert, and I can see the life I could build here, I can see who I could be. I have a job, and I'm making enough money to pay back my debts, to save and enjoy a little. I have a place to live with my brother, and we are working on plan to make that better. I'm having new experiences and exploring my surroundings. (I found a bookstore!) I've been here a month, and I'm getting back to good.
I'm just afraid good won't be enough. It's that missing piece. The piece that's responding to the songs playing on the radio and at the same time wishing it was silent. The piece that wants more than good. And I have a new worry. That it's not something missing from this place but something missing from me. Something I'll never have, something I'll never find.