Friend: “Why did you come back to San Diego of all places?”
Me: “Something feels unfinished – like a book I started, put down, and still desperately want to know the ending of.”
Friend: “What feels unfinished?”
Me: “I don’t know yet… I haven’t been able to figure that part out.”
Why did I come back? I’ve been wrestling with this. As 2 weeks have now passed since I’ve been back and I have no trips planned at all in the next month, reality is settling in. Last night, I was curled up in bed watching a show trying to fall asleep when I realized my heart hurt. I was aching. I paused the show and tried to think deeper about what I was feeling.
It felt like heartbreak – just a dull yet sharp ache in my heart and lump in my throat. I tried to tap into what exactly I was heartbroken about but am finding it’s all too vast. I’m mourning the loss of the lifestyle I was living. I’m mourning the magical and serendipitous reunions with friends all over the world. My heart hurts more the more I think about it.
This is normal though – this is what happens when you must let go of one thing before you can grasp another. Usually in life, the time is quite short between when you let go and get a firm grip on whatever new thing you’re reaching for. I’m caught in that in between space. All I have right now is the absence of what I had as I have not yet filled up my soul with the benefits that come with “staying”. It will take months for that to happen likely and my heart is feeling it.
On the flip side, I’m able to take a step back and see the larger picture. I can smirk at myself while also very much hurting. I’m grieving but I realize the absurdity of my grief like listening to a teenager lament over very real pain that you know will fade as life rolls on.
P.S. I hope this doesn’t last long.