(no subject)

[nostalgent]

My arrival was heralded by earthquakes, hurricanes and tornadoes. The following week my estranged grandfather passed. While I was somewhat vocal about my mixed feelings regarding his passing - I knew he was troubled and that he removed himself from participating in the family - I was there to sort through his belongings and help make plans for his cremation. The only support I had came from an ex who was keeping tabs on me because she still somewhat carried a torch for me.

When I lived on that other coast, I often felt left out and forgotten. Friends in school did never invite me to socialise outside of school. Same now in later life, even with family. I feel like I must be the one involved in planning any party I am invited to. After so many years, it's hard to ignore that this might be reflective upon my own personality.

Yet, I still wish to return. It may not have been much but it is all I have. At least I would not have to drive for so long to hear the waves crashing against the shore and let myself lull to sleep on them, forgetting for a few hours the trouble and iniquitous feelings that haunt me ever so loudly now on this coast.

Maybe I'll get lost in the frozen peaks. Maybe it will feel as cold on the outside, for once, as it does on the inside.