I'm nervous today. Almost like I'm waiting on something to happen. I feel unsettled. I keep driving and wondering if I feel at home. The better question is when is the last time I felt at home. I remember feeling really good in Cincinnati, but that may be because of Lisa and John. They were my family...and it was a comforting environment. I didn't have my crap together then...but I did enjoy my time there. Now, being more "with it" here in Rochester, somehow I find myself trying to get to a certain feeling--like it's a goal. Chicago never felt like home. I have great friends there...I was there for a long time, but I was always moving. I didn't live in the same place for more than year. That's a lot of moving around. Plus, I also had new jobs every year and a half for one reason or the other. Lawrence is probably the closest thing to feeling at home as I could have. St. John is too, but it's different. My house isn't mine anymore...my room isn't there...and I don't really have a set place to be there. I keep trying to feel at home and that doesn't work. I think J and I are both searching for a certain feeling. He still feels that Chicago is his home--though he is feeling more comfortable here. It's hard. We are slowly meeting people, but we don't have good friends here. We are still searching around. It's cold as hell and I don't like to be outside. My apt feels homey. I like being in it...but I still feel like something is missing.
I always think very dark thoughts. What if Jason died...what would I do then? Where would I live....or go? Part of me thinks I'd move back to Lawrence. Jason wasn't there...his ghost wouldn't be following me around--not that that would be a bad thing. Part of me wonders if I'd continue to roam around. Maybe see if Sarah wanted a roommate in Seattle or something. Or, maybe I'd make Dewey have me as a roommate, although he doesn't want one. Or, maybe I'd move overseas. That would be dramatic, but I'm dramatic. I know that immediately, I'd want to be in St. John. I'd still look for something there that I know isn't anymore. The "St. John" feeling. I know there are people who have moved from there that understand what I mean. (Kortney and Becky would know) This is a weird thing to write about.
I know I'm not the only one that constantly thinks about crazy things. How many would come to my funeral. How weird would it be for my family to finally meet some of my friends that she's always heard about. How would it affect each person. I know what it's like to lose a friend...and how it affects me...and how she's constantly around. Not like a haunting...but like she's here and I can see her, but no one else can. I want to talk about her, but now it's like I'm morbid if I bring up her name. I recently found her brother on facebook and I just wanted to talk about her...but I felt like I couldn't because maybe he didn't want to talk about her with me. Interesting that I still haven't used her name. Carrie. I think about her and I wonder if 10 years after my death, others would think of me just as often. I've had her mom's email address for almost a month and I haven't used it. I'm still a bleeding heart sometimes and maybe that's not good for her. I just want to sit and talk about her until she's here in some form.
Maybe this is floating to the top of my mind because I heard about Sylvia Plath's son's suicide. Not that I'm suicidal. It's just---his life is gone. I think about my life being gone. Poof. And Natasha Richardson is gone. Poof. Her kids will grow up without her...and maybe Liam will remarry one day. But, she's gone. Really? People think we don't go anywhere after death? REALLY??! I feel how much energy there is inside me...my thoughts that won't stop, etc--and it's just GONE?
Life is great. But, if we do get to see the people we've lost after we die...the company gets better and better on the other side.
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