(Typing on the iPhone, accidentally hit send before I was finished)
I compartmentalized the relationships and packed them away in the boxes--some would be unpacked, while others would remain in those few boxes filled with things you could not get rid of as you purged your belongings, but could not quite find a place for.
It also brought up thoughts/feelings about my wavering sense of belonging and concept of home. I am incredibly fortunate. Three groups of friends have opened their homes to me over the last year--so, I must be doing something right. Yet, I am constantly waiting for the welcome to be worn out, or the door to close--for it to be time to move one--because it has happened so many other times, literally and figuratively.
I am hoping to try something different with this move, however, to unpack all of the boxes and understand that home is a state of mind--it's about the people, not the walls that surround. My goal is learn that doors do not always close and welcomes do not all fade.
That in order to be comfortable in a place, you must also be comfortable within oneself.
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