This Little Room

There is a root, an anchoring force attached to me, when I am in this little room in this little town.

There are people in my life, in this building, due to random events in general- who are so incredibly comforting to be around, who are there because they know me and we want to be connected. My family are incredibly comforting as well, and not because it has always been that way- because we sincerely, love and understand one another. My family sees me more completely than anyone alive. They have not known my best and worst in the way that lovers have, but they have known me to my core, and they love me passionately. and now they are living in a town not so far away, with a lot of neighbors.
If I ever feel completely rootless in this world, I know that within their hearts where ever that is, a strong feeling comes around with thought of me, and that is what makes sense to me in this world, what I crave like water.

This is what makes sense to me.
But my slice of this exists in this place, at this time. It will change.
Nothing matters as much to me as the roles I play in the lives of others and the experience, opportunities, and contentedness that is organic, true connections, but these things always change!
During the past seven years- maggie's life time at least, of my 23 years, I have sheltered this growing root in my personality under romantic relationships, the fragmented and mended relationships with my family, and the phenomenon that is a stranger looking at you long enough, until they say that they know you.

The phenomenon, of becoming connected to a co-worker, a friend of a friend, a fellow hobby-ist, over time without rush, as apparently for the socially stupid, is a painstakingly long journey nearly void of instant gratification. Don't get me wrong, it is also a great many wonderful things, which I love. This phenomena is like water to my root. But it's an over-sheltered, naive, drama queen of a cactus root, and makes due with what she gets. I am comfortable with the pace here. I am attached, I guess, in the worst way.

I think of moving to the place I just ran from, at 60mph most of the way, in terms of some possible love affair.
But my first exposure as a naked faced lone wolf in the Voyeur was cruelly realistic.
The traffic, the sheer number of people, the ego, the importance, the pace- it's just so different, and from this first glance, I am surprised that I am not as evolved, and cool as I thought I was!

Thinking, this must be one of those things that you can't force- you don't just move to a place, no job, no rent.
I need to make a strong, stable, comfortable contact. A job opportunity with housing-? I don't know.
But jumping into the city, not having a friend to behold, thinking that people see and want to see- people just want to be seen, and usually they bring a chosen audience, I had no business being there, it was not the place I belong at all. For now I think the place I belong really is here, in this apartment. With maggie, the stressed out terrier. GEez, she's been through a whole bunch in her lifetime for a house pet.

Something tells me I'm just due to surrender to the disconnected, no-place-in-the-universe-for-me attitude, and be alive here, now, and stop being so intent on why and how and where I make a living.
I just need to focus on being alive. At 23 I've been through a lot, and there's a ways ahead of me, so I think I'm due for a little unglamorous, small time, single life. For the rest of the summer, then I'll know more people, have more money, have more of a sense of how to be a provider.
This tiny ocean village can be my lonely love affair. For now.