Cloudy days don't mean sadness.

Any given day, the weather changes and you don’t know what you’ll find. Today shadows set over my sun city, and the wind blew everything away.

 

I unpacked today. Rather I sorted through eight boxes not seven, and found I didn’t even need three of those boxes. Winter clothes for this town, jeans that will just sit in my closet, and jackets I won’t see till I return from here. One box of bills and paperwork that used to consume my life, another of crafts to distract me from life, and a third filled with sister gifts that made me feel my family was bigger than what this little house holds.  I only grabbed flip-flops from the seventh box, and emptied the eighth realizing there was no doubt, shopping would soon be required.  

 

Worry came to me as I found I didn’t even pack my airline ticket to California, but clarity is emerging faster than anticipated and I have realized that everything--if not replaceable—is manageable. A simple thought this may be, but one I have been without for a while and a blessing to remember.

 

I bought the first piece of clothing to show off a new tan I know I will have. Sisters are learning I’ve left, and the love as well as support is immense. I knew I’d pull it together, but I know it’s not supposed to be this easy.

 

Perhaps I’ve been distracted with the ‘business of moving.’ Or perhaps I’m content with knowing I haven’t really left, just taking a longer time than usual to return.

 

Plans are now in full swing to return—momentarily. I know I’ll have friends and sorors waiting. That alone, gets me through. And I love them for it.

 

The exchange of cleaning “my room”—which consist of some floor, a blanket (not needed) and boxes—for mom’s knowing eyes, and the thought of just not having to worry anymore is going to work for a while, but I can already tell I’ll move as soon as I get the opportunity. She knows it too. Which is for the best.

 

 Listening to a cd I made for a friend, and realizing how little my heart may break now, as it broke time and again. I almost feel guilty for not hurting the way I know I will. I just seem to know it will hit, and when it does, I’ll probably be ready to go back. But not to him. Just back to myself and my life. I know eventually I’ll be unhappy here being mom’s daughter and daddy’s little girl. But for now, it’s okay… I’m okay.