Something Like Home

I've cleaned up most of the drag-vomit nightmare that happened on Friday when we needed to find another outfit for a last-minute second performance. Unfortunately, the portion that covered my bed has yet to be organized. More important things have been happening over the past week. I've only slept in this room one night since coming home on Wednesday evening, and even that was only for a few hours. My back ended up aching madly throughout the next day. I suppose I had gotten that used to the comforts of sleeping in a real bed.

Home is not something to come back to. It's someone to come back to. I always feel my most adventurous when I have a companion. Why didn't I want to leave Pittsburgh just yet? I was going to be alone in a new place, and that was going to be terrifying. It's actually much more complicated than that, but I don't know if I have words for how I feel about eventually leaving the city. I don't think I want to do that just yet, as I've said in the past. I may want to make this place my home for the next several years. It may be my home forever. I'm certainly not even in the financial position to leave. But why in the world would I want to? Everyone is here, at least for now. I can feel what I have done resonating through the city, and though it's a small ripple in the ocean, that makes me feel like I have roots, ties, influence, or whatever you want to call it here. I feel like I am as much a part of the city as it is a part of me. I'm kind of a nobody, and I'm kind of a somebody. And the view is nice. I like going to places where almost everyone knows who I am, even if they don't talk to me. I like that feeling of being surrounded by the people who care about you. Those last two aren't always the same, obviously, but I have both of those things here.

I don't feel the need to run away from anything. Not anymore. In order to be free to wander, I need to have stability. Part of that is establishing this place as my real home. I'm going to get a place here, and I'm going to make it mine. I'm going to have a puppy and nice things. I'm going to write my shopping list on a little piece of paper and hang it on the fridge. I'm going to have my mail sitting in a neat little pile next to my keys on the kitchen table. I'm going to have a couch that's always open. I'm going to have candles. I'm going to have a big boy bed with lots of pillows and some magazines on a nightstand with a clock and a little lamp that gives off just the right amount of light for bedtime reading.

I wanted to write a little more tonight, but I kept getting distracted with that whole actually-living-my-life thing. I suppose I do have a few minutes, though. I feel so sorry for angry people. Anger is normal and healthy, and sometimes it is a very good response to have. But anger as a state of existence must be full of sadness and resentment. It's one of those things I'll never really understand. I can only be angry for a brief period. I found out that that period is a little longer than I had originally thought, but I cannot stay angry. I cannot stay bitter. I can be sad. I can be happy. But I really, really can't be angry. And I like this about me. Sometimes it makes me too nice of a person, though. But I've learned a few lessons about dealing with people.

I'm allowing myself to be a less nice person to those who are less than nice to me. And I'm finding that slightly comforting. I'm not going out of my way to be mean, but I'm also not going out of my way to be nice. I'm freaking out much less in recent weeks, and I know that my decisions have had a lot to do with that.

Speaking of meltdowns or unpleasant reactions to things, I almost had a situation last night. But it was over in probably five minutes or less. I thought I had done something to upset him. I thought for sure he was very hurt by something I had done the night before. I know I ended up face down and stretched out, stiff as a board. But there was silence. He just sat there and waited. He just knew what to do without ever having had this conversation with me. And things were fine. I sat up, put my glasses back on, and slowly looked him in the eye and told him I was fine. It was comparatively...easy. It's amazing how comfortable I've gotten in such a short amount of time. I've been able to do things with him I wasn't able to do with others until several months to a year into the relationship. It's just that easy to be myself. And I still find it hard to believe that I'm having trouble sleeping without him next to me. It just seems like it's the right thing. I've never been able to be this open about myself so quickly. That alone makes me insanely happy.

We played in the park last night. We lay on the ground looking at stars and just talked. I didn't want to be anywhere else. I don't worry about things when I'm with him. Stupid shit just doesn't bother me or stress me out like it usually does or maybe should. I just need to find that balance now because I haven't really gotten a lot of work done since I've been back. I think tomorrow is going to be that day.

I brought back a lot of shit with me from the Valley. There aren't places to put things. And there's still even more crap at my parents' house. I used to have more stuff than this, but then I kept moving around so much that I needed to leave so many things behind each time.

My thoughts are starting to go in different directions, which means I'm almost done. There's crazy lightning happening now. I love storms...except when gunshot-like thunder wakes me up and scares the shit out of me. That happened this afternoon for the first time in my life, and I can now understand why some people don't enjoy storms.

Shimmy.