I'm home from dinner with a wonderful friend whom I hadn't spoken to in a very long time. A misunderstanding or maybe just life stood in the way of a conversation that should have taken place a long time ago. A misunderstanding that took away from our thirty-plus friendship for fear of picking up the phone and just taking the time to listen.
One would never think that I have a problem with speaking my mind, however, speaking your mind is not the same as speaking from your heart. The one thing that many of us try like hell to protect. Something that I have a hard time doing, yet, have no problem writing about in the privacy of my desk while in the dark, when everyone is sleeping. My happy place. Isn't that what these blogs are? Yes, I think so. Millions of happy places whether they are masqueraded with sarcasm, poetry, prose or just filled with images of things that make us happy to share with the masses.
Let me share a piece of my history. My story is simple. You've seen images of me living the dream but all the while crying inside. I've been in pursuit of this dream. A dream created by this little girl and shared with the very same friend some thirty-years ago during countless sleepovers. The dream of a family, a house, a career and stability. This dream has come with a very high price, though. It's cost me the relationship of those that have been cheering me along the way. I suppose that one way of repaying them is making sure that Ithey see that these blessings are appreciated and cherished. I have attained the family, the home, the career and stability. This family website is proof of that.
Now, a piece about coming home. I was scared and anxious. I was so glad to leave and many times vowed to never come back. However, one thing I've noticed, while back home is that I'm not homesick. No kidding, right? My homesickness for my Peyton Place has been suffocating me for years. I feel lighter here. It's so very wonderful and decadent at times to be strolling through the very streets and in the company of those that have shaped, encouraged and, at times, discouraged me to fulfill my dreams. I knew that coming home would teach me something about myself but never thought that I would realize it so quickly. It's hit me like a ton of bricks...I've been missing home all these years. All this time I thought I was running away from it. Will I return for good in the near future? Only time will tell. But for now, I am savoring every moment and taking it to Italy with me.
I've said this before my dear blogging crazy friends. Life is fragile. People are fragile. Strength, happiness, laughter, and wealth may be hiding sadness and loneliness that only they can measure. Which brings me back to the dinner with my dear friend. She concluded after reading my posts that my life was fuller and satisfied without the company of my dear friends and family. How foolish! Maybe this would explain the occasional cold shoulder from some. If only they knew....
...coming home is by far my biggest and scariest adventure.
(a few snap shots from home, taken at City Place)