I want so many things for this blog, for this experience and I am having the hardest time figuring out how to say what I want to say and the way I want to say it.
I have been unsure if I should start at the beginning of my life or at the issue/story that is the most pressing on my mind at that moment. Anyone who has talked to me for too long knows that I have a story for everything. It may not be a good story, but it's a story.
A friend recently told me about changes in their life that they wanted to make. One of the things that they mentioned is that they fall in love so easily, with ideas, with places, with people. I can completely relate to that. I am a champion at it. There are two challenges presented by this constant state of falling in love.
1. What happens when you fall out of love?
2. What happens when what you love does not love you back?
In this case I am not talking about the typical aspects of love, beyond romantic love, platonic love, or familial love, although these same questions relate to those in a very unique and real way.
Falling in love is the most intense, awe inspiring, giddy feeling
Being in love can make you feel so good, so alive, you think that everything will be this good forever.
Falling out of love, when the luster fades, all the flaws and imperfections become obvious and irritating. It can cycle in and out of being in love so easily.
Then there is Unreciprocated love where the thing/person/place (noun) you love does not love you back. Arguably the most painful of feelings.
To relate this to my own life, I've lived on Long Island (a suburb of NYC for those not familiar) for all but 6 of my now 34 years. I can't, or won't apply this "Love curve" of mine to New York because I was not given the option of loving it. My love for the place of my birth is most akin to familial love. You can't choose it, its just there. It's stronger than others sometimes, but at the heart there is always that unique bond that you can't obtain from any other place in the world.
I moved to Moberly, Missouri in the end of 1999, directly after Christmas. My flight was on December 28th. The moving, the "falling in love"/decision to move had as much to do with a person as the place, but site unseen I moved to this new world.
The in love phase did not last long at all. It was clearly so far from the life I had known that the differences were far greater than my desire/need to adapt.
The falling out of love/the break up/love unreciprocated. Life there hated me as much as I hated it so I moved back to NY, much to the relief of my family, particularly upon seeing the town of one horse to which I had moved. I was not made for Moberly, nor was it made for me. Soemtimes you need to try these things to know for sure. I returned to New York to continue that love hate relationship that I had maintained for so many years.
My other love story with a place was one with roots almost as deep as the love of my birth home.
Memphis, Tennessee, as many people know, the place that I live now. My uncle was stationed at the Naval Base in Millington during his stint in the Navy. No one understood how he fell in love with it here so much, at least not while I was growing up. We vacationed here during the summers at least one week a year as often as we could, and in years where they didn't come to us. Given the restriction, monitoring, and abuse of my household that I will get into another time staying with my aunt and uncle and my cousins was a relief.
I moved here once before when I was 22. I loved it then, to a slight degree. I was in like with it. I wasn't ready to commit though and moved back to NY.
Then four years ago, I was ready and I was in love all over again. To prove how right the relationship was I was able to transfer on short notice through my job, found a new what appeared to be better job right away. I was able to stay with my aunt and uncle until I was able to get into a place of my own. My trip here, becoming established here has been nothing less than blessed. I was in love, I was ready to commit.
Four years later, I lost the initial "better job" which turned out to be not that much better. I have a new job with a doctor from the hospital which was my better job. I have a smattering of friends. I have a great support system. I have a fantastic job that I really do love. I am still very much in love. I have moved into my second apartment here, one that I found completely on my own this time. It shows that when the time is right for something you can find a way. This is more home to me in some ways than New York ever was.
I don't know if that's how I had intended to end this. I had drafted up through Missouri over a week ago. I guess I got my point across. We'll see what the next tale brings, if we can solidify a direction for this and hopefully someone will get something out of this.
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