Times Like These
'It's times like these that I just don't know. I've managed to turn every choice, mine and the ones made for me, into a positive, but I do occasionally wonder. I truly believe I've made the right choices; I wouldn't have my life any other way. It's just that laying here in this hotel room, in my old home town, I wonder.'
~ Stacee Ann Harris, September 10, 2011
I'm two days and four hundred miles removed from those musings above, but I still haven't quite shaken the feeling. My soul is different there, better somehow. I keep waiting for here to make me feel the same. I've been in Austin two years and, while there are many wonderful things about 'Here', it's still not 'There'. Assuredly, Texarkana is not Austin and never will be. Of course, Austin is not Texarkana and will never be. They say that Texarkana is wholly unsuited for someone like me and Austin should be perfect.
Should be... It's the 'should be' that kills me. My soul doesn't know from 'should be'. It only knows what is and how it feels. I'm not saying I'm unhappy or that my soul is uneasy in Austin. In fact, I'd argue that most days I'm plenty good. It's just that when compared directly to who I am elsewhere, the subtle nuances of reality appear in fine relief. In other words, the light of day shines brighter in Texarkana than it does in Austin. Things suddenly become crystal clear and start to wonder.
Thankfully time and distance make me forget. People often ask why I don't visit more often. Truly there are a plethora of practical reasons - the busted a/c in my truck, the high price of gas, split days off, my race calendar, not having anywhere to stay- that prevent me from going back 'home' regularly. The moral of that story is that I could if I wanted to. And I don't want to.
I do, but I don't. Going 'home' invariably means a modicum of residual homesickness and thoughts of 'what if' and 'I wish'. I'm trying to make a life for myself here. 'Home' is not an option at this point (if I want to keep working at The World's Largest Home Improvement Retailer, which I do, and if I want to keep making the money I'm making, which I also do), so going forward I have to go forward. Some day I may be able to move back, but today is not that day and neither is tomorrow. Here is all there is at this point. I'm good with that as long as I don't come face to face with the alternative too often.
Which is why I don't visit more often. I'm done wanting what I can't have. That goes for emotionally unavailable women, straight women, married women, donuts every morning for breakfast, and moves I can't afford to make. I'm trying very hard to pursue and maintain sanity. Realistic wanting is the key to all that for me.
It all whittles down to one small, yet hardly infinitesimal, fact - I don't know where I want to be. I suppose that's ok. But still I wonder. Especially after spending most of a day with someone who soothes my soul in ways few can in a place where I feel exceptionally me. Yes, it's times like these that I just don't know.
~ Stacee Ann Harris, September 10, 2011
I'm two days and four hundred miles removed from those musings above, but I still haven't quite shaken the feeling. My soul is different there, better somehow. I keep waiting for here to make me feel the same. I've been in Austin two years and, while there are many wonderful things about 'Here', it's still not 'There'. Assuredly, Texarkana is not Austin and never will be. Of course, Austin is not Texarkana and will never be. They say that Texarkana is wholly unsuited for someone like me and Austin should be perfect.
Should be... It's the 'should be' that kills me. My soul doesn't know from 'should be'. It only knows what is and how it feels. I'm not saying I'm unhappy or that my soul is uneasy in Austin. In fact, I'd argue that most days I'm plenty good. It's just that when compared directly to who I am elsewhere, the subtle nuances of reality appear in fine relief. In other words, the light of day shines brighter in Texarkana than it does in Austin. Things suddenly become crystal clear and start to wonder.
Thankfully time and distance make me forget. People often ask why I don't visit more often. Truly there are a plethora of practical reasons - the busted a/c in my truck, the high price of gas, split days off, my race calendar, not having anywhere to stay- that prevent me from going back 'home' regularly. The moral of that story is that I could if I wanted to. And I don't want to.
I do, but I don't. Going 'home' invariably means a modicum of residual homesickness and thoughts of 'what if' and 'I wish'. I'm trying to make a life for myself here. 'Home' is not an option at this point (if I want to keep working at The World's Largest Home Improvement Retailer, which I do, and if I want to keep making the money I'm making, which I also do), so going forward I have to go forward. Some day I may be able to move back, but today is not that day and neither is tomorrow. Here is all there is at this point. I'm good with that as long as I don't come face to face with the alternative too often.
Which is why I don't visit more often. I'm done wanting what I can't have. That goes for emotionally unavailable women, straight women, married women, donuts every morning for breakfast, and moves I can't afford to make. I'm trying very hard to pursue and maintain sanity. Realistic wanting is the key to all that for me.
It all whittles down to one small, yet hardly infinitesimal, fact - I don't know where I want to be. I suppose that's ok. But still I wonder. Especially after spending most of a day with someone who soothes my soul in ways few can in a place where I feel exceptionally me. Yes, it's times like these that I just don't know.
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