Every time I have moved away from home (out of country, and now out of province), there is always that moment where it hits me… I live here now. Sure, it is always temporary, I haven’t stayed put anywhere permanently, but it is still a startling realization that I now live far away from everything and everyone I know and love. It’s a terrifying thought. Don’t get me wrong, it is a rather exciting time as well, it’s just not exactly easy to be on the other side of the country, or the world, from your loved ones.
Last night I spent the better part of my night looking through pictures of my nieces, and my family. I remembered how when I left for Thailand, Logan was a baby and I came home and she was a little person. They grow so fast. You leave home hoping that things will be the exact same when you return, but they never are. Things change, people change. Some things never will. My family has always been there for me, that will never change. Friends aren’t as stable, but usually remain fairly unchanged. I know it can be hard on friendships when I up and leave whenever I chose to do so, but the friendships that are real, remain intact. And for that I am forever grateful.
So when does your new home feel like home? Is it when you have finally unpacked everything and put it in its proper place? Is it when you lived there for ‘x’ number of days, weeks, months? There is no exact timing for it, it usually just kind of happens without you even realizing it. And one day you will notice that it’s felt like that for awhile, and you will feel a sense of peace knowing you are ‘home’. I don’t know when that will come this time, it certainly hasn’t yet. I am almost done unpacking and I already miss my closet, and my bed, and my room.
Before I left, many people were commending me for my ‘bravery’ and ‘courage’, telling me I am so inspiring, that I can get up and just leave on my own and do what I need to do. I feel a bit like a phony, as if Holden Caulfield would call me out in a second if he ever met me. I am not that brave, or courageous. It has been the hardest thing imaginable to feel so lonely and decide to pick up and make myself even more alone, literally. But it was the only thing I could do. And I am doing it. I spent 8 days on my own, save for the moments I met new friends and visited a friend. It was the most incredible feeling in my life. When I left I was a phony, it was not strength that made me leave, but weakness. My inability to handle a life that I was no longer happy in. But the 8 days on my own have given me strength. I remembered how capable I am of being alone, and how much I actually enjoy my own company more than most. I could’ve driven on, I could’ve continued my journey around canada solo, and been quite content. But alas, I have made it to my destination, and now it is time to make this my ‘home’… for now.