19 June 2014

Home Is No Place Like There

I go back home tomorrow. Back to work, moving into a new apartment, then the same old day after day. I wish I could stay here forever. Or go back to Austin. Or keep traveling across the country. Anything that would make me feel independent and useful – anywhere that I have friends and people who like me, who I trust. I don't want to go back. I want to move and explore and meet new people and write things and try new things and not feel tied down. I hate feeling like I'm going nowhere. I love that my brain is tied up in traveling and exploring; I hate that I'm crazy and that I'm useless when it comes to finding a way to do it forever. And maybe that I'm just useless in general. I can't handle the day after day retail job or dealing with a constantly fighting family or missing people I've never met and places I've never been. Yet, there seems to be no way to have the things I want. So tomorrow, I go back home.

People I meet when I travel are different than everyone else. It's encouraging to be told that I'm intelligent or funny or creative or kind. I'm not bad or annoying to them. I don't get in the way. They want to ride with me on the train or sit down and talk with me for hours. They like my quirks and appreciate my talents. We get to know each other better in just a few hours than other people and I get to know each other in a lifetime. I guess when you only have a few hours and you're bored, you're not as inclined to brush people off. It makes me wonder why I feel so miserable around the people I know. It makes me wonder why I'm always just getting in the way and why I'm more likely to get insults and mocked than I am to get some encouragement and help. I wonder why people in new places approach me because they see something unique in me while people in the places I'm forced to exist in just want me out of their hair. I want to travel and to exist in places where I'm around people who want to be around me. I hate that I can hear in my head the voices of people I'm going back home to replying to that with, “You mean places like that exist?” Because then I doubt that they do, even though I've been to them.

And I really hate that there are people who make me feel worthless on a daily basis that will reply to this telling me how “great” I am then go back to treating me like dirt.

And that there are people who will respond with, “Well if you don't like how I treat you then leave.”

And that there are people who will tell me, “Well, I guess you should stop being lazy and work harder”, because they clearly don't understand the struggles I go through or how hard I already work every single second of my life.

I hate that I have to feel responsible for how other people treat me. And that I have to feel like I'm not doing enough to get to where I want to be. And I hate that strangers know me better than anyone who has “known” me for an extended period of time. I hate going back to a way of life that makes me feel worthless and not worth knowing. I hate going back to people who don't appreciate my interests or my areas of knowledge or how my mind works. I hate going back to people who don't care what I have to say when I speak. I hate going back to people who would rather do anything as long as it means they don't have to spend an extended period of time with me.

I want to go back to places where someone will brave the heat and new areas to find a place to have good ole Texas BBQ with me. Who cares if we're not 100% sure where we're going. We're going somewhere. I want to go back to places where someone will spend an entire day at the zoo with me and then come back to next day for 12 hours of intense roller coaster riding. Sleep can happen some other day. I want to be around strangers who trust me enough to tell me their deepest fears and darkest secrets. I want to be around friends who are content to cuddle up with me and talk about everything and nothing for so long that we lose track of time. I want to be around the people who tell me things they've never told anyone else, who hug me when I cry, who get into mischief with me, and who are intelligent and interesting and see that I am too in my own way.


I don't want to go back home. I want to go 'home' to all of the places I am comfortable and free to be me.

No comments:

Post a Comment