“It is important to stay positive because beauty comes from the inside out.”~Jenn Proske, Canadian actress
Today I heard Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’ and I cried.
I have no reason to, but I did. I guess I do have a reason. There’s one line that Michiganders emphasize EVERYtime that song plays:
“Just a city boy, raised in…” (wait for it) “…South Detroit.”
I hummed along and automatically claimed that line as my own just as I’ve been conditioned to. Instantly, I got homesick, which is weird. Michigan is not my home, just the state I resided in for these past 11 years, but the familiar and unknown crashed together.
We’re house hunting now in New Jersey. It’s still a daze to think I’ll be a Jersey girl again, another state that’s not my home. I’m not discouraged by the search. There are well-groomed houses that are within our price range in cities we could live in. We haven’t found The House yet, and that’s the unsettling part of all this.
I’ve found some coffee shops to claim as my own, local shops that give a 5-cent discount if you use a for-here mug and offer loose leaf tea drinks. I even made a friend at one of them. I found potential writing outlets and publications to explore. I discovered a writing group I’m trying out next week. I feel good about all that, but right now, that d@#n unknown scares the crap outta me.
I left friends. A left a kick-a$$ writers group. I left the safe and familiar. I’m working to create a new safe and familiar, but where? I’m afraid that the connections I’m making here, close to the temporary housing we’re currently living in, will be nowhere near where we settle. That’s unsettling.
I couldn’t even properly mourn my memories. Landscapers came by at just that moment, blowing grass clippings into my car. I had to drive away, and that pissed me off.
I claimed that line as my own. I claimed that state as my own. I’m being quite presumptuous with my life, and I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.