I’ve eaten so many cheese crackers and consumed half my weight in Coke zero to get here.
No joke. We drove past a BMW with Texas plates whose driver was counting cash over his steering wheel. Also, why does Baton Rouge smell like tuna fish?
Alabama. On the plus side, I had a raging breakfast of biscuits and sausage gravy. On the down side, I left a pair of Ray Ban wayfarers in a bathroom stall at a rest area between Eutaw and Livingston. Anyone from around there? Finders keepers.
Virginia. You are taking forever to drive through.
Here’s the truth:
Two years ago, I went through a devastating breakup that served as a kicker of a catalyst for an even bigger life break-down. My coping mechanism for dealing was pretty classic: retracting. It’s not for everyone but for me, it’s the only way that I know to turn off the noise and heal from the inside— because that’s what needed to happen. I lost myself in that relationship; I put my hopes and independence on the line for someone who was so disrespectful of my significance as a human being that when it all imploded, I literally went mental. Though quite a bit of time has passed, I still feel the vibrations of that trauma but I’m getting better. Taking time for myself also afforded me an opportunity to evaluate everything else around me. In the end, being that my trust took a beating, I had to make decisions about who I was going to allow to have any of it. As a result, some of my closest friendships are no longer; there was too much noise, not enough time and a lot less energy that I was willing to commit. I have those that matter most, near my heart and for that I’m grateful.
A few months ago, I flirted with the idea of moving. They say that you can’t run away from your problems, but it doesn’t help to stay when so much of your surroundings remind you of things that you’d rather not remember. I need a new start, there’s an opportunity, so I’m functioning on this premise: The last time I packed and left New York for a few years was when I was a kid, making my first important solitary decision to move to New England on my own; that experience changed my life and I never even knew it then.
So here I am, about a decade later, a little worse for wear but still standing. This could easily be the best decision of my life or the worst but it’s all hands on deck, party of one and all I know is that I have a house waiting for me in Texas and a raging super HEB down the street from the master planned community madness where I’ll be residing.
To everyone who’s taken time to follow me, heart or reply to a post that I wrote or send me a message for whatever reason: There were times when the silence got overbearing but your kind words and internet presence were a saving grace. My only hope is that I can do for you what you’ve done for me. Thank you so very much.
I need more patience. Old people and maps don’t mesh.
that’s my heart
Regardless of whether you take yourself off the Facebook grid, there’s no stopping your National Enquirer-friend from reprising you of things you’d rather not hear via phone.
And that’s Tuesday’s lesson.
Big changes in the next two weeks. At the moment, my brain’s too scattered to write a proper post about it but I promise to jot it all down (and get back to your inbox messages) as soon as things sort of quiet down. Why am I writing this as if I’ve got a gaggle of followers? Whatever. This goes to the handful of you who read this tumblr space: I’ll be back.