I feel displaced right now. Somehow, I feel as though I am on some sort of mission trip that never ends, or sometimes that I am on a year long holiday.
It can be hard for me to believe that I am living here. I live here. This is my home for now.
I know that it sounds silly, but one of my biggest concerns is that when I come back to the States, I won’t have a home. Assuming I come back to the States.
Where my parents live isn’t home. I have lost my little apartment with friends. Can I go back to Florida and still find it a place to rest?
I have never given roots much weight. I always thought always living in one area was for sissies with no sense of adventure. But I think I begin to see how important it is to be established in an area. It galls me to no end that I will probably be just reaching a satisfying level of comfort and friendship in this city before I leave. Then I’ll leave?!
That is that for. So I don’t know what I am doing after this year. I don’t know if I want to forge ahead with being abroad, likely not. Do I want to go back to the States for some period? Likely.
Regardless, I think I had been tend to establishing myself somewhere and spending some a significant amount of time there. Enough time to feel like I belong.