Of course, "home" right now, to the stranger's eye, would translate roughly to "a senseless conglomeration of oddly assorted piles of way too much crap" but after a week and a half of hospital and hotel rooms and guest beds it is close enough to heaven to sit in peace in a living space that I can call solely mine that it almost makes me remember faith with fondness. (Lol but not really.) Currently Simon is curled up on the new, beautiful alpaca blanket that my work friend Maggie brought me back from her trip to see her daughter in Ecuador: a lightweight, beautifully striped creation which shielded him from viewing the scary world outside the car window yesterday and now lies heaped on the couch; I'm sitting out on the balcony for the fourth straight hour marveling at how much quieter my city neighborhood is than my parents' small-town block off Main Street.
Settling into my new home will take, almost certainly, the remainder of the year. With three years' exhaustion sagging from my bones and dragging at the corners of my consciousness, a whirlwind of purposeful activity will elude my capability for some time. But I don't mind, much; I keep reminding myself that I have no deadline, and as busy as my job keeps me during the week, I need to focus primarily on catching up on the rest that I have missed while surfing the constant upheaval.
Not that I'm complaining; the last three years have held their share of challenges, but I look at it as a growth spurt. When I recall my physical growth spurt back in fourth grade, at a literal bomb shelter of a school long since demolished and replaced with a park, I mostly remember intensive discomfort -- particularly in my knees, which ached so badly that they felt hot to the touch and kept me awake at nights. The last three years have had their share of discomfort and aches and sleeplessness, but as I survey my current position in life, I feel just as I did when my knees finally stopped hurting: taller, stronger, and proud. Hell yes, this was worth it. In three years I have nearly doubled my income, found a career and begun to climb ladders with alarming rapidity, and adopted a city that I absolutely love. I have shed dissatisfying boyfriends (and hopefully, at this point, the inclination toward them, because I am tired of wasting my time and emotional capital on fruitless, doomed, and frankly stupid endeavors). I have made a place for myself into which I can now settle, and begin to build my own little empire.
Man, it's good to be here. Poised on the brink of something spectacular, and excited for the experience. For the whole of my time on this planet, I have been waiting for life to start; and nine years ago I realized that I would have to be the progenitor, and it's taken me this long to make the journey to the mountain I am finally equipped to climb. I'm not sure what's at the top, but I'm going to work hard and have a whole lot of fun finding out, and the path, for the time being, is challenging, but clear.
It's good to be here, and it's good to be now.
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