October 30, 2001

A fine question indeed.

This particular iteration of my web presence is, by it's very name, a temporary one, but then, they all end up being temporary anyhow. This one just knows that it is. I chose to write from the cardboard box because I am homeless right now.

Not literally speaking, because my parents have been nothing but generous and accommodating and I am welcome to stay with them for as long as I need to, but their home is no longer my home. I moved out a good time ago, and while I am grateful for the welcome that I have received and I am glad to have such a nice place (complete with high speed internet) to stay, I don't consider that I live here.

I had a home that I quite liked, with a wonderful man, and our two very charming cats. It was small, but cheap and the location was incredible - you could watch the sun set over the James River through our bedroom window. Then one day, I left that home, thinking to return in four months. I left and went to live at the Jersey shore, on Long Beach Island. I worked at a theatre there, which made me quite happy and I settled in and was quite content there, except that I missed the man very much. And the cats, but to a rather lesser degree. (They shed rather more than he did.) While I was gone, the man and I tried to plan our upcoming nuptials. We set a deadline for getting a bunch of stuff done. The deadline came and went without the stuff done, and I felt odd about it. The odd feeling coalesced into something more definite. I was relieved.

Relieved.

I knew then that I would never go home again. I loved that man. I still do love him. But our paths had diverged and we were unable to make them intersect again. I needed my freedom to pursue my own dreams, cheesy as that sounds, and he needed so much more stability and responsibility than I could give him. I need to be able to travel the country, working for very little money and living in whatever housing presents itself. He needs someone who can manage to pay their own bills - on time even. Someone who wants to start a family and live in one town. He wants the person I was when we met. I want the person he was when we met. Unfortunately for the relationship, we have both grown. But not together. So we chose to end the relationship, rather than end up hating each other for our lost dreams. And I stayed in New Jersey for an extra month. Over the course of the five months that I was there, that little apartment in the staff housing became a home of sorts and I was very sad to leave it, when I did leave it.

Now I am back in Virginia, staying with my parents. But emotionally I may as well be living in a box in Times Square. In fact, I might be happier there. Less baggage.

So I apologize if there are times when this is a dark journal - I am not a dark person really, but I am going through a bit more angst than I generally make a habit of. I'm working my way back to funny, so there will be bits of each.

And eventually I will have a home again, and I will have to retire this name. So start thinking of a new one for me!