Coming home.
So it's official. My last day of work is the 15th and I'm moving back to Austin on the 17th.
I'm happy for the most part, but I'd be lying if I said I weren't scared, too. I'll be going back to some of the better elements of my old life before Trevor, before Houston (shudder), before a lot of really good things even happened to me. But of course most people are leaving, getting on with their lives, and that's cool--just one more adjustment to make. Like I said, though, scary mostly since I'm going to have a hard time meeting new people.
It's definitely been a while since I've made some lasting connections. In fact, probably the best thing about Houston was that it was really easy to meet people for the short year I lived here. There's always the Interwebz, but it really isn't the same. That element of serendipity just isn't there online. That's what I thrive on sometimes.
That and all the feelings that come along with getting on the road and starting over. That knowing sense of near impermanence that hits me every time. But the last time I picked up and started over, it was under much more agreeable terms. I didn't have the stinging needle in my chest then. I'm not speaking metaphorically--it is very much a real physical sensation, and it is as such extremely painful. Who knows what causes it, but it's come and gone at its own will for the past two years. Heartbreak and hopelessness seem to bring it right to me like mosquitoes to stagnant water.
There are a lot of complications surrounding this lifestyle change, like I've said. And the thing that gave me that last inspiring push toward moving...shit, it's a long shot in the dark to say the least. But as always I'm prepared to go after it, even if it takes a while, even if I fail. There is only one outcome I won't accept: failure isn't it. I'm not afraid to fail because making this particular goal a feasible option is half the battle won.
At this point, I have nothing to lose by going after what I want.
It feels good.
I feel the thrill of the hunt again.
I feel alive, to put it in no uncertain terms.
I'm happy for the most part, but I'd be lying if I said I weren't scared, too. I'll be going back to some of the better elements of my old life before Trevor, before Houston (shudder), before a lot of really good things even happened to me. But of course most people are leaving, getting on with their lives, and that's cool--just one more adjustment to make. Like I said, though, scary mostly since I'm going to have a hard time meeting new people.
It's definitely been a while since I've made some lasting connections. In fact, probably the best thing about Houston was that it was really easy to meet people for the short year I lived here. There's always the Interwebz, but it really isn't the same. That element of serendipity just isn't there online. That's what I thrive on sometimes.
That and all the feelings that come along with getting on the road and starting over. That knowing sense of near impermanence that hits me every time. But the last time I picked up and started over, it was under much more agreeable terms. I didn't have the stinging needle in my chest then. I'm not speaking metaphorically--it is very much a real physical sensation, and it is as such extremely painful. Who knows what causes it, but it's come and gone at its own will for the past two years. Heartbreak and hopelessness seem to bring it right to me like mosquitoes to stagnant water.
There are a lot of complications surrounding this lifestyle change, like I've said. And the thing that gave me that last inspiring push toward moving...shit, it's a long shot in the dark to say the least. But as always I'm prepared to go after it, even if it takes a while, even if I fail. There is only one outcome I won't accept: failure isn't it. I'm not afraid to fail because making this particular goal a feasible option is half the battle won.
At this point, I have nothing to lose by going after what I want.
It feels good.
I feel the thrill of the hunt again.
I feel alive, to put it in no uncertain terms.