Wednesday was the first day of autumn, and like I knew I would I have an incredible longing to be back in Wisconsin. I knew going into this cross-country move that, for the first year of anniversaries at least, I'd have a hard time dealing with the things I was going to be missing. The nostalgia that comes with the change of seasons. The first chances to wear hoodies and sweaters, the colors on the leaves changing, and the crisp morning air on the way to work. That's why fall has always been my favorite; fall meant enjoying the best parts of winter without having the full onslaught of frigid weather and snow.
Right now it is 93 degrees outside and humid.
Is it weird to say that I still don't feel like I live in Austin? I'm more than three weeks out from packing up the car and driving down here but it still hasn't sunken in that I live here and I don't know why that is. All of my things are here... the boxes are unpacked and the beds are made, the living room is fully operational and we've watched more than a handful of movies and the entire season of American Horror Story: Coven. I've been working, gone grocery shopping a few times, and set the trash and recycling out for the garbage men to pick up.
But it's not my home yet.
I know things like that take time of course. Wisconsin probably didn't actually start feeling like home until I was almost finished with high school and that was because I still had a resentment and longing to move back to California, unfounded as it was. But that move had not not my choice, and this was... so here's hoping it won't take seven years to get over it! However, there is still a sadness in me that I can't figure out.
It's a sadness that permeates me in a way that I find hard to believe. I'm happy with Derek. I'm happy to be near family still. But I'm also sad. Why do you think that is?
Maybe it's my lament for the things that are now gone. Maybe it's just being a little homesick. I thought I'd cry most of the way down during my move, but I hardly shed any tears. Saying goodbye to my parents was the absolute hardest part, and I somehow managed to keep a stiff upper lip while doing so. Then the driving started and the cats were all over the place and freaking out, which distracted me just enough to not break down. But even once they were locked away in crates and it was only me and my thoughts and the open road... I couldn't cry. In a way I'm still waiting to cry. I know it's in there, and I know it is going to sideswipe me at some random moment when I least expect it, and maybe that's when I'll finally drop it and move on. I don't know.
Oktoberfest is this weekend back in Wisconsin, something I enjoyed very much over the last several years. I would spend the entire day walking around downtown, meeting with random friends over the course of 9 or so hours and laughing til it hurt, drinking to maintain a pleasant buzz, and taking enough pictures to capture the memories of a great time.
This year I'll be working, struggling to do my absolute best and maintain a positive outlook and spin on things at my current store.
The key might be to just get out and start doing stuff here in the city, something we have not been doing yet. The last year has been spent saving for this move and now that it's out of the way, I still find myself saving as much money as I can out of fear that I am going to run out of it. As a result, Derek and I have only done a couple of things in town here. That's also due large-in-part to how fucking hot it is all the time, but I digress.
There are things to do and see, places to travel to and explore. Museums and theatres and concerts and cities, food and food and food, parks and rivers and lakes and everything outside and inbetween. I just need to get out and do it. I get to share these experiences with Derek which is more than enough... I guess I wish I was able to share them right away with some of my friends back home as well.
It's interesting when you move away from people. You are sort of putting yourself into a forced exile, shuttering away from the friends and family that shaped you into who you are. Willingly or not. Some people my communication increased with, and others it has stopped entirely. I'm unsure as to why that is, which seems to be a common theme in this blog, but there it is. Maybe it's like a break-up period and you need to do things on your own for a while because the hurt is still too fresh. Or maybe it's more of an "out of sight, out of mind" type deal. Whichever.
It makes me feel alone.
The picture at the top of the blog says "We must take adventures in order to know where we truly belong." I'm a firm believer that the answers to life come in the form of time and experience. You live and you learn. This move has taught me that change is always a good thing, but transitions suck balls. The transition is the hardest part, moving from who you were to who you are. Some things will stay the some, bigger things will change, and who will you be when you come out on the other side?
Moving to Texas is still a process for me, it isn't done yet. It won't be done until I am working where I intended to work, doing the things I intended to do, and that's okay for now. No one said it would be easy, but that certainly doesn't mean it has to be hard. It has just been an adjustment.
I'll be sure to tell you first when it fits.
Ciao for now (c;
ps, the kid in this video is adorable.
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