I’m in the last few days before I begin work. I have six days, to be exact, and it’s this last push, this last week or so, that I’m finding myself clawing at the doors of this house, this life. I want out. I want to be on my own, and in my own space, doing the things for me that I want to do for me. I want to be on my own bed. I want to start making my own paths, setting up the world around me in my fashion.
I have already begun the process of making a social network around me. With each connection, more and more roots are being put down beneath me. I can feel it. When I’m walking back to this place of temporary shelter after a night of laughter and carousing with these fellas I’ve met, I can feel this wave of peace come over me time and time again, complete with a smile of satisfaction and, finally, feeling like I belong somewhere. These guys have been nothing short of angelic to me. Their generosity has blown me away at every turn. When I start to feel badly and make mention of how I need to make it up to them somehow, every single one of them brushes it off and tells me not to worry. They are making an investment in a friendship, in me, and that means so damn much to me, especially now, when I am going out of my mind with the wait.
I will say, I wanted this in Denver. I wanted to have a walk home in the middle of the night where I felt like I had a place, had my feet beneath me, and was where I needed to be. The fact is, I never had that there. I never allowed myself to slow down enough there, or make the kinds of connections I needed to make in order to enable more growth. By the time I did finally start to make any connections of merit, my heart and mind had checked out of Denver, with an eye towards the Pacific Northwest. I have no regrets for moving here, apart from missing those whom I grew close to back at 5280′.
I have started planning out what my next three months might look like. So far, it’s a loose sketch of budgets and plans and all of those little details that need to start falling into place once I start working. I won’t be able to move into my own place right off the bat, and that was a big pill to swallow, but I can and will find a quality roommate. I’ve had a couple offers made already, which means the world to me, as they are from people who simply want me to be happy and in a place that I feel comfortable in. Still, I need to fine-tune things, set dates on calendars once I know what my pay schedule will be like, and focus on getting settled in at my job first. Once that’s up and running, I can manage the move, manage the logistics of getting my few items from point A to point B, and really, finally taking a step forward again.