Home Space

I didn’t fully realize I was running away until I had started packing. 

I had booked my train ticket at work that afternoon just minutes after I got approval to take Friday and Monday off. Work was slow. 

I was bored and had days to use.
 

On my way back to my apartment that night, as I walked down the subway stairs I tripped and almost fell. While I was still gripping onto the railing a witness to my trip walked past me and laughed at me. I yelled at him ‘It’s not funny’. My frustration grew and he turned to  me and said ‘What?’ as if I was being rude to interrupt his mocking of me. 

I continued down the stairs and mumbled ‘Never mind.’

I was too tired to fight back. I let the City win this round. 

In revenge, I had pizza for dinner and tried to relax. As I was packing I realized how tired I was and how much I needed a break.

I was tired of being bored at work and feeling like I was being underused and not challenged and having 20 mentally freak outs a day about being pigeon hold and stuck.

I was tired of asking myself what I wanted from my Ex- if anything...if less, if more.
If I’d get the courage to ask him what he wanted.

I was tired of wondering why this guy didn’t text me back after he told me he wanted to see me again. 

I concluded later that he got kidnapped my pirates and then sold to gypsies.

I was tired of pondering if I should still be in NYC or anywhere else but here...

So I left.

I cancelled all my plans for the weekend. Including time with the Ex, a bar crawl and volunteering.

While waiting for my mom to pick me up at the bus stop, a (too) young gas station attendant asked if I wanted to wait inside since it was cold out.
I explained I had just been on a train/bus for hours and needed some air, my mom was picking me up soon.
He nodded at me politely and said casually, ‘Yeah, everyone gets homesick.’

Just a few months from my 28th birthday and I realized I was homesick.

I missed that security- my home- that has changed a thousand times in the last 5 years but was always still left standing, no matter where my actual house was. 

It's like that great quote from Garden State:

"You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone...
You feel like you can never get it back. It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist... I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place."

I missed my family smiling at me and seeing me just as I was in the present moment and not forcing me to define any of the above.

At one point over the weekend while my mom smiled at me as I watched TV on the couch, she exclaimed:

“Sometimes I think you should just move back home.
But then I realized you probably would never get married if you did...so I guess it’s OK.”

I laughed and admitted that sometimes I think about it too but then explained I’d have to actually drive a car though
and no one on the road wants to witness that. So I’ll stick with public transportation.

My Monday night I was exhausted, but this time physically. I had spent 4 days on either a bus or train riding around the state making sure I saw everyone.

I knew I had a lot waiting for me but as I got off the train and walked into the misty streets of midtown, I felt for at least a few minutes that I could take care of everything. 

Maybe just one step at a time.

Besides, this was all mine. I left home to have this independence and separate life. It’s not always going to be the way I want it.
But that’s why I’m here and not in the safeness of home: to take on my own messiness and enjoy the ride no matter how up and down it is. 

Even if things get worse, I know I can always step off, go hide for a few days and eat my mom's mashed potatoes with a giant wooden spoon.