6 am thoughts....
I had a great day off yesterday. My motorcycle has been in the shop for nearly two weeks and it was finally done. I woke up, went to Starbucks (my daily ritual...soy misto, check email, emusic...et al) and then Kirby picked me up and we had a nice girls lunch at the Lazy Dog Cafe. Then she dropped me off at the mechanic and I finally got my wheels back! Ahhhhh independence is sweet :) I have been so lucky that my friends pick me up and drop me off and hang out with me even when I can't meet them halfway. And I got to rent a sweet convertible to drive to the magic shows this weekend...I even got a sunburn from DRIVING!
I went to the gym and then home to shower. This may all seem mundane and ridicuous to the laymen, but to me, to those who know me they know that enjoying a leisurly day off that ends with gym time and a delightful shower is a rarity. I got to sing in my shower. I got to unpack my boxes of books and put them away. I CLEANED MY APARTMENT!! I was invited to a game night at midnight and I actually went to it!
So the point of this post is that I got home around 5:30am and started to drift off (thanks to the Gilmore Girls in the background). I was wrapped up in my comforter with my pillows making a nest around me and I thought, how lucky I am to get to experience living by myself. I am 25 years old and I have no boyfriend, husband or children. This is an experience not everyone has. Many people go from their parents home to thier spouse. Or parents to roommates to lovers. but I as luck or fate would have it, rent a space to myself.
I have never felt like I had a home. I left my family in Ohio after spending my childhood dreaming of safety and sense of belonging. I searched for it in EVERYTHING. That is the reason I became a dancer...I wanted a family, a home and I saw it on the dance team. I looked for it in my roommates in college, no dice. And in the men that I dated I thought this, this man is my home. But not so. and yesterday as I arrived home and closed my cabinets full of books and got a glass of water I felt a sense of belonging. This is my home, my cups, my pillows, my place of safety. In my apartment I am free to cry, to dance, to clean, to be lazy, to freak out. I am home and it is the product of not just me but also the efforts of Melanie who had the forsight to know what would benefit me and encouraged and helped me set it up in the midst of my post breakup dispair (wow what a run on sentence!). All along I had been trying to find something in others that I had to find in myself.
And I found it, at 6am nestled in my comforter with a wagon camp of pillows. My place, my home, my safety, my life. Its like I get it now. I get why you have to go through things, I get why my relationships didn't work out, I get that there are missing pieces of the puzzle that you don't find until you are able to understand them.
I went to the gym and then home to shower. This may all seem mundane and ridicuous to the laymen, but to me, to those who know me they know that enjoying a leisurly day off that ends with gym time and a delightful shower is a rarity. I got to sing in my shower. I got to unpack my boxes of books and put them away. I CLEANED MY APARTMENT!! I was invited to a game night at midnight and I actually went to it!
So the point of this post is that I got home around 5:30am and started to drift off (thanks to the Gilmore Girls in the background). I was wrapped up in my comforter with my pillows making a nest around me and I thought, how lucky I am to get to experience living by myself. I am 25 years old and I have no boyfriend, husband or children. This is an experience not everyone has. Many people go from their parents home to thier spouse. Or parents to roommates to lovers. but I as luck or fate would have it, rent a space to myself.
I have never felt like I had a home. I left my family in Ohio after spending my childhood dreaming of safety and sense of belonging. I searched for it in EVERYTHING. That is the reason I became a dancer...I wanted a family, a home and I saw it on the dance team. I looked for it in my roommates in college, no dice. And in the men that I dated I thought this, this man is my home. But not so. and yesterday as I arrived home and closed my cabinets full of books and got a glass of water I felt a sense of belonging. This is my home, my cups, my pillows, my place of safety. In my apartment I am free to cry, to dance, to clean, to be lazy, to freak out. I am home and it is the product of not just me but also the efforts of Melanie who had the forsight to know what would benefit me and encouraged and helped me set it up in the midst of my post breakup dispair (wow what a run on sentence!). All along I had been trying to find something in others that I had to find in myself.
And I found it, at 6am nestled in my comforter with a wagon camp of pillows. My place, my home, my safety, my life. Its like I get it now. I get why you have to go through things, I get why my relationships didn't work out, I get that there are missing pieces of the puzzle that you don't find until you are able to understand them.
posted by Coco at 2:12 PM
2 Comments:
Yay!!
I like the wagon train of pillows imagery. :)
Post a Comment
<< Home