The Art of Leaving.

On the road you are in a constant flux of both arrival and departure, never staying quite long enough to feel the comfort of familiarity or staying just long enough that the comfort of familiarity gives you permission to extend your wings and ride on, or sometimes... makes it harder to fly away.
Stops are replaced by faces. New Orleans, Austin, Taos, San Diego, Tucson, Nogales, Bisbee, San Francisco, Portland, Los Angelos, Lima, Huanchaco, Arlington, Alexandria, Portland, Phoenix, Atlanta, Mancora, Cajamarca, Mount Joy, Philadelphia, Washington DC, Columbus, Bar Harbor, Narragansett, Providence, Newport, Boston, Chicago, Lubbock, Las Vegas, Bakersfield, Berkeley, Corvalis, Lancaster,Harrisburg, Harrisonburg, Santa Barbara, Salem. (Yes, those are all the places I have been to in 1.5 years. Scary and amazing.) All of these faces have a story. A unique, sometimes dark, often complex, and beautiful story. But because of the nature of who I am right now I am only able to create a brief glimpse into a life that I may never fully know.

The Art of Leaving. Part I

I decided to write about this because it is something I struggle with.
Leaving.
I'm scared of being left behind.
No, let's clarify; I'm TERRIFIED of being left behind. (Note that I'm not referring to the George Bush or Revelations rendition of the phrase.)
I've spent the larger majority of my last ten years struggling with my family leaving me behind and having this fear effect my relationships with men, with friendships, and with myself even.
So what did I do?
I left.
I left over and over again.
I kept leaving. I left my thoughts. I abandoned some of my emotions and moved onto other fears I wanted to face.
After all, if I'm the one who keeps leaving, it becomes harder for someone to leave me? Logical,no?

Now, I do have to give myself some credit as well, because an abandoner am I not. I do, however, define myself as being an adventurer. After spending some time picking up my pieces I wanted to feel, breathe, experience, talk, and live. But in order to do it, I had to leave. I didn't just leave a location, I left a state of mind. I wanted to stop thinking.. SO MUCH, about everything. I wanted to throw caution to the wind.

I don't think I should be too hard on myself and also have to take credit for the years that I stayed. I loved myself enough to commit to therapy, to crying, to writing, to talking, and learning. I made myself face the situation I was in and learn how to be ok with what was left.


Well, here I am. With the same fear I started facing in 2001.

I'm thinking about not leaving. I'm thinking about getting that studio apartment in Northwest DC. I'm thinking about getting some bookshelves and unpacking my clothes. I'm thinking about spending a year staying. In one place. (minus some adventures here and there).
but these are just some thoughts.