It’s hard to believe I have lived away from Seattle for nearly three years now. The time in years is short, but it has seemed so long. I’ve lived in three states, had 4 different jobs, and now find myself in NY with very mixed feelings. I’ve contemplated both leaving and staying numerous times. In fact this theme is much too common in my often rugged internal dialogue and frequently the reason why I remain awake long after I have retired to bed. I’d say this question is unwelcome, at the very least unpleasant, but at the same time I cannot dismiss the importance of living in a locale that truly makes me happy and gives me a feeling of ease.
I miss getting in my car and driving home after work, relaxing and decompressing along the way. I miss calling up my best friend and twenty minutes later walking into her home and feeling like I am truly at home, with her. I miss our trips to the mall simply to return something she or I bought impulsively due to an emotional event or out of pure boredom. I miss pointing out the obviously still in love elderly couples or the sweet geriatric men I find so precious. I miss having her randomly tell me that she (or even her boyfriend) saw one of these people (“my people”) and that they immediately thought of me. I miss the spontaneity of wine nights and lazily watching too many episodes of Sex and the City, knowing that there are about a hundred other more productive things I could be doing, but not caring and remaining side by side with my best friend, filling the room with occasional bursts of laughter and silly remarks. These are the events that have been absent from my life over the past three years. I miss my friendships the most. Mainly I miss this particular friendship.
My decision to move back to Seattle is unclear. It has been muddled for a very long time. Honestly once I left I never thought I’d return with the thought of residence. Wanting security and comfort seems strange and foreign, but I find myself craving the familiar presence of the people I love and vice versa. Three years ago it was clear that I needed to leave. I wanted adventure, something new and exciting; I just needed to get away. Looking back you could say that I left to find myself. I needed to embark on a journey that would lead me to a better understanding of who I am as a woman. I’ve tested the limits of my independence and oddly found that it is no longer independence that I want, but dependence. I’m looking for it everywhere and wondering where it truly exists.
