mourning what once was
In moving away from home, so many facets of my life have grown and changed. The self who existed in my bedroom at home isn't nearly the same person writing this entry right now. And for all I've changed in my life, I find that so many of my relationships have been completely altered since I've left.
I find it devastating to think that the times sitting in my backyard with my dad, nursing some ouzo while we let the barbeque simmer are never going to feel as endless as they once did. I'll only be home in increments of time from now on, cherishing my time with him because I know it's finite, not just because it's time with him. We will always have a close relationship, distance and time won't effect that. The FaceTime environment, however, will never be as fulfilling as an unnecessary car ride for the sake of spending time.
What is it that turns these home relationships into such a cherishable thing? Cherishable in that they get coated with nostalgia, reminding me that whatever it is now, it not always was that way. The golden lens of the home, of the starting point, both makes me more protective of these relationships and also pity them.
In leaving home, I feel that I've left some of these relationships behind, intentionally. In the last months before leaving, I had this growing sense of finding myself alien. Alien to the people around me, and alien to myself. In having a complete refresh of my surroundings, people and otherwise, I feel like I'm becoming a version of myself that feels truly authentic. Granted, I haven't gotten nearly there yet, but I'm definitely on the upturn.
The hard part of changing is looking at parts of your life that remain, and wondering, is this still really a part of me? I can say for certain some things will and always will remain a part of me. Coming to realize which parts won't is an extremely hard process, but a very necessary one as well.