Goodbye to the vagabond, hello to home.
Staying still had felt more unsafe, more uncertain than the open road. And it was. The ground always felt like it was shifting beneath my feet, crumbling away. So I kept moving, as if I could keep ahead of the impending disaster if I only ran fast enough, far enough.
The past few years have been full of instability, but the unknown was an adventure. It's hard to stop running once you start. The fear of staying still hasn't been as difficult to combat as the curosity I've developed. There's always something new to see, over that next hill or around the next bend. That curiosity kept me going even when the adventure waned and left me exhausted. I camped in the mountains, splashed in the ocean, and lost myself in the desert. I found forgotten backroads in states I'd never been, my favorite among them lined on both sides with sunflowers as far as I could see.
Along the way, something changed me. My desire to feel at home became overshadowed by the fear that I never would. Fear can be a self-fullfiling prophecy. I started keeping myself at a certain distance from those I met. There's no real reason to be known when you know you'll just be gone before long. It's strange how lonely you can still feel even in a crowd. I met plenty of wonderful, interesting people - I just wasn't in any position to be more than a single-serving friend (go watch Fight Club if you don't get the reference- scratch that, go watch it even if you do, good movie). Maybe it didn't have to be that way. But the few I had trusted at the start of all this, left me feeling like I was all I have. There was no caution or care in their actions, I was alone.
It's a hard mentality to break away from. It's hard to let people in when so many have let you down. But it's not impossible. Sometimes you meet people who see right through your bullshit, they see the pain beneath and forgive the mistakes you make while you work through it. Even when you feel yourself slipping away, they never let go of your hand. And sometimes more slowly than you can witness, you begin to feel safe again.
I don't think I'll ever cure myself of the curiosity, but I finally feel capable of sharing the adventure with those who've been keeping me closest. Despite myself, my relentless self-sabotage, I feel at home again. Home is where the heart is, and I'm done feigning like I'm heartless. You don't have to protect your heart with such vigor once it's no longer being taken advantage of. There's a place out there with people who genuinely care, sometimes you just have to roam the countryside to find it.