accidental flares of love burst through the atmosphere

Graceland

fender-DG-60 The concept of home has fascinated me for a long time. Ever since it became necessary to craft one for myself, which I'm sure is the case for many people.

I always notice it when summer ends, even if the weather doesn't change. Fall is cozy by default, ya know? I drink tea before bed, I order soup at restaurants, and I wear a sweater if the high is even one degree below 70, because I feel like I need to. I never appreciated it when I was young because fall essentially meant winter: 2 weeks of changing leaves in Western NY followed by 6 months of cold and snow. I hated it, and so I never let myself find any good in it.

When I came back from London - a city that immediately felt more like home than anywhere I've ever actually lived - I felt like a visitor in LA. How weird is that; I left a city that I've spent 6 years in to go somewhere for 10 days, and came back feeling like I had never been to Los Angeles before and needed to completely readjust. I went to Santa Monica the day I got back to watch the sunset. I had taken the full day off of work, I had nowhere else to be, and I was homesick for a place I had barely spent any time in. I wandered around to all of the grocery stores in Santa Monica, trying to refill my TAP card so I could get to work the next day, and none of them could do it. I had managed to forget a very prominent part of LA (lack of support and resources for public transportation) in 10 days.

I've always been a bit of a wanderer and I've certainly been a loner, and neither of those things have ever bothered me. But lately I'm wondering if that's only been true because I've never had the right kind of company to create any sort of "home" with. I see Pep every day at work, and we see each other outside of work all the time, and I'm never tired of him. Instead of making excuses to not do things and not see him, which has been the case in every relationship I've ever been in, I see him more often and miss him when he's gone. I don't miss the excessive alone time I usually need because he doesn't drain my head or my heart. Instead, he energizes me.

It all leaves me feeling quietly thankful for the time I've spent in LA that has forced me get to know myself and learn how to live my own life instead of the life my parents or friends were happiest living. I'm not sure I would have reached the same level of understanding had I not moved here.

I'm not sure these points were as related to each other as they seemed in my head on the ride home today, lol. That's ok.

Basically, I'm just happy that I can spend a Sunday afternoon trying to learn Joni Mitchell songs on the guitar, with 2 kitties playing on the floor and a strong drink next to me and someone I'm crazy about texting me and making me laugh. It all feels like home.

On Risk and Value and Love

Born at the Right Time