With uprooting myself again and changing the entire direction of my life, I have to necessarily let go of many things. Many material things, which I used to find hard, but after leaving New Orleans in such a rush, running for my sanity, and my life, is so much easier now. I've made peace with the fact that I can pack a bag of clothes and leave with nothing else, if I must. I'd like my new journal and ipod, but those are not necessities.
What's harder to leave behind are the memories of my life before. And there are many I'd like to leave, dead and buried. I burned two journals' worth not too long ago, and that did help with a lot of the pain.
Another Wep Ronpet approaches, and I will travel through it. I want to arrive in Oregon with a new life, a clean slate, and ready to be filled with new memories, love, and joy.
Maybe that's why a deeper and older ache has surfaced again. Or maybe this one is just stubborn. But he always comes back. I'm not even sure he's my friend anymore. I found an old gift he sent me years ago, and I'm torn as to if I should burn it like the journals, or send it back to him.
He owes me nothing, really. I don't know why I feel so wounded by him. I just know this has gone on so long, up and down, in my heart, that it might feel like tearing out a bit of myself to finally leave this particular relationship (whatever the fuck it was anyway) behind and give up.
The gift - I've carried it with me through three states - two dorm rooms, three apartments, two houses. I've called him friend for over 10 years. He's often baffled me and frightened me. And frustrated me.
It's complicated. And somewhat beautiful, but maybe it was always ephemeral. And will finally blow away in the winds of change.
I know I'll never forget. But I think I have to leave most of this in the past. It was likely never good for me in the first place.
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