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Home is…?


For the last two months I’ve been mostly trying to ignore my impending move. For a few reasons: I really love Florida. I love my house. I love the area. The schools have really been great, more so this year than ever before. I don’t have many friends here, but my plethora of online friends makes up for it. The move instead of feeling distant now feels impending. It’s like a weight getting heavier everyday as I pack more boxes. I’ve never been sad to leave a place before and I’ve lived in five places in ten years. Usually I’m excited to move, to start a new adventure, but this time seems bittersweet.

I’ve only been to Texas once. I will miss my routine. My Starbucks, where everyone knows my name and my drink order. I’ll miss my spot at the library where I hide upstairs in the back. It’s strange the little things we become attached to. I’ve never had a ‘home.’ Sure I grew up in a house, but for a very long time I couldn’t wait to get out of it. I never understood the concept of ‘home,’ this place people grow attached to and never want to leave, but with every box I pack my chest aches a little bit more and I really feel like I’m leaving home.

My favorite time of year is starting. I’m sitting outside on my back porch, there is a stiff breeze, and it’s cooler out. It never gets cold in Miami, which I prefer. This has always been my favorite place to write, besides of course Starbucks. I finished my first eight books in this house. Four of which have been published. Before moving here I’d only finished one other thing. It’s going to be weird and a new beginning to write in Texas. So much of my life experience colors my work, I wonder how much effect Texas will have.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again, Texas scares me. More so after reading NYC to TX, and Back in the Closet by Santino Hassell. I’m out here, more out than I was when I lived in Wyoming. I’m different here, but no one says anything. I don’t want to go back to pretending to be cis anything. I don’t so much worry about making friends, people can take me or leave me, but I do worry about how my kids will be treated in schools there. I have to suck it up and try not to let my prejudice jade me to the experience. I will force myself to think happy thoughts as I continue to pack. 

I wouldn’t be moving unless it was to bigger and better things, and I truly believe it is. I’ve never seen my partner this happy at a job and he’s only been there a few days. My job is more or less portable, so the move is impossible to say no to, but it’s like a sprint for the finish line in a race I don’t want to win.

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